Plain And Not Honest Is Too Harsh

Make Use Of Time, Let Not Advantage Slip; Beauty Within Itself Should Not Be Wasted: Fair Flowers That Are Not Gather'd In Their Prime Rot And Consume Themselves In Little Time.

Princes Have But Their Titles For Their Glories, An Outward Honor For An Inward Toil; And, For Unfelt Imaginations, They Often Feel A World Of Restless Cares.

Fie, Thou Dishonest Satan! I Call Thee By The Most Modest Terms; For I Am One Of Those Gentle Ones That Will Use The Devil Himself With Courtesy: Sayest Thou That House Is Dark?

Now The Time Is Come, That France Must Veil Her Lofty-plumed Crest, And Let Her Head Fall Into England's Lap.

A Stirring Dwarf We Do Allowance Give Before A Sleeping Giant.