O Heaven! Were Man, But Constant, He

Think'st Thou I'd Make A Life Of Jealousy, To Follow Still The Changes Of The Moon With Fresh Suspicions? No; To Be Once In Doubt Is Once To Be Resolved.

Lovers Ever Run Before The Clock

To Me, Fair Friend, You Never Can Be Old, For As You Were When First Your Eye I Ey'd, Such Seems Your Beauty Still.

It Is War's Prize To Take All Vantages; And Ten To One Is No Impeach Of Valor.

Where I Could Not Be Honest, I Never Yet Was Valiant.