These Flowers Are Like The Pleasures Of

Therefore The Moon, The Governess Of Floods, Pale In Her Anger Washes All The Air, That Rheumatic Diseases Do Abound; And Through This Distemperature We See The Seasons Alter: Hoary-headed Frosts Fall In The Fresh Lap Of The Crimson Rose.

In Delay There Lies No Plenty.

Women Are Not In Their Best Fortunes Strong, But Want Will Perjure The Ne'er-touched Vestal.

A Woman Impudent And Mannish Grown Is Not More Loath'd Than An Effeminate Man.

To This Urn Let Those Repair That Are Either True Or Fair; For These Dead Birds Sigh A Prayer.