The Brain May Devise Laws For The

She Is A Woman, Therefore To Be Won.

Mine Honour Is My Life; Both Grow In One; Take Honour From Me, And My Life Is Done.

Thou Ever Young, Fresh, Lov'd, And Delicate Wooer, Whose Blush Doth Thaw The Consecrated Snow

From Women's Eyes This Doctrine I Derive: They Sparkle Still The Right Promethean Fire; They Are The Books, The Arts, The Academes, That Show, Contain And Nourish All The World.

The Proverb Is Something Musty.