The Hand That Hath Made You Fair

Thou Art Most Rich, Being Poor; Most Choice, Forsaken; And Most Lov'd, Despis'd! Thee And Thy Virtues Here I Seize Upon.

Out Of My Sight! Thou Dost Infect Mine Eyes.

When Devils Will The Blackest Sins Put On They Do Suggest At First With Heavenly Shows

Love's Mind Of Judgment Rarely Hath A Taste: Wings And No Eyes Figure Unheedy Haste.

All Impediments In Fancy's Course Are Motives Of More Fancy.