Rumour Doth Double, Like The Voice And

On Rumor's Tongue Continual Slanders Ride.

Why, Universal Plodding Poisons Up The Nimble Spirits In The Arteries, As Motion And Long-during Action Tires The Sinewy Vigor Of The Traveller.

One Woman Is Fair, Yet I Am Well; Another Is Wise, Yet I Am Well; Another Virtuous, Yet I Am Well; But Till All Graces Be In One Woman, One Woman Shall Not Come In My Grace.

If I Profane With My Unworthiest Hand This Holy Shrine, The Gentle Fine Is This: My Lips, Two Blushing Pilgrims, Ready Stand To Smooth That Rough Touch With A Tender Kiss.

O Gentlemen, The Time Of Life Is Short! To Spend That Shortness Basely Were Too Long, If Life Did Ride Upon A Dial's Point, Still Ending At The Arrival Of An Hour.