Ornament Is But The Guiled Shore To

But Miserable Most, To Love Unloved? This You Should Pity Rather Than Despise

Tis In Ourselves That We Are Thus, Or Thus.

Join Not With Grief, Fair Woman, Do Not So, To Make My End Too Sudden.

There's Her Cousin, An She Were Not Possessed With A Fury, Exceeds Her As Much In Beauty As The First Of May Doth The Last Of December.

He Was Met Even Now As Mad As The Vex'd Sea; Singing Aloud; Crown'd With Rank Fumiter And Furrow-weeds, With Bur-docks, Hemlock, Nettles, Cuckoo-flowers, Darnel, And All The Idle Weeds That Grow In Our Sustaining Corn.