Their Lips Were Four Red Roses On

'tis Better To Be Vile Than Vile Esteemed, When Not To Be, Receives Reproach Of Being, And The Just Pleasure Lost, Which Is So Deemed, Not By Our Feeling, But By Others' Seeing.

I Am As Vigilant As A Cat To Steal Cream.

Whose Heart The Accustom'd Sight Of Death Makes Hard.

Good Name In Man And Woman, Dear My Lord, Is The Immediate Jewel Of Their Souls: Who Steals My Purse Steals Trash; ’tis Something, Nothing; ’twas Mine, ’tis His, And Has Been Slave To Thousands; But He That Filches From Me My Good Name Robs Me Of That Which Not Enriches Him, And Makes Me Poor Indeed.

Tis Not The Many Oaths That Make The Truth; But The Plain Single Vow, That Is Vow'd True.