Sweet Flowers Are Slow And Weeds Make

The Teeming Autumn Big With Rich Increase, Bearing The Wanton Burden Of The Prime Like Widowed Wombs After Their Lords Decease.

Poor Wretches That Depend On Greatness' Favor, Dream As I Have Done; Wake, And Find Nothing.

Hate Pollutes The Mind.

Give Me My Sin Again.

But Pearls Are Fair; And The Old Saying Is: Black Men Are Pearls In Beauteous Ladies' Eyes.