Ten Masts Make Not The Altitude Which

She Is Your Treasure, She Must Have A Husband; I Must Dance Bare-foot On Her Wedding Day, And, For Your Love To Her, Lead Apes In Hell.

We Must Take The Current When It Serves, Or Lose Our Ventures.

For Thy Sweet Love Remember'd Such Wealth Brings That Then I Scorn To Change My State With Kings.

I Shall Despair. There Is No Creature Loves Me; And If I Die No Soul Will Pity Me: And Wherefore Should They, Since That I Myself Find In Myself No Pity To Myself?

You Have Dancing Shoes With Nimble Soles. I Have A Soul Of Lead.