She Lov'd Me For The Dangers I

He Wears His Faith But As The Fashion Of His Hat.

Treason And Murder Ever Kept Together, As Two Yoke-devils Sworn To Either's Purpose, Working So Grossly In A Natural Cause That Admiration Did Not Whoop At Them; But Thou, 'gainst All Proportion, Didst Bring In Wonder To Wait On Treason And On Murder; And Whatsoever Cunning Fiend It Was That Wrought Upon Thee So Preposterously Hath Got The Voice In Hell For Excellence.

The Devil Hath Power To Assume A Pleasing Shape.

When Death Doth Close His Tender Dying Eyes.

A Table Full Of Welcome Makes Scarce One Dainty Dish.