The Bashful Virgin's Sidelong Looks Of Love,

Send Danger From The East Unto The West, So Honor Cross It From The North To South.

Tis Not A Year Or Two Shows Us A Man: They Are All But Stomachs, And We All But Food; They Eat Us Hungerly, And When They Are Full They Belch Us.

This We Prescribe, Though No Physician; Deep Malice Makes Too Deep Incision; Forget, Forgive; Conclude And Be Agreed; Our Doctors Say This Is No Month To Bleed.

Be Checked For Silence, But Never Taxed For Speech.

I Would Not Lose So Great An Honor As One Man More Methinks Would Share With Me For The Best Hope I Have.