Time Goes On Crutches Till Love Have

Since Mine Own Doors Refuse To Entertain Me, I'll Knock Elsewhere, To See If They'll Disdain Me

It Is The Mind That Makes The Body Rich; And As The Sun Breaks Through The Darkest Clouds, So Honor Peereth In The Meanest Habit.

When Workmen Strive To Do Better Than Well, They Do Confound Their Skill In Covetousness.

Make Me A Willow Cabin At Your Gate, And Call Upon My Soul Within The House; Write Loyal Cantons Of Contemned Love And Sing Them Loud Even In The Dead Of Night.

I Must Have Liberty Withal, As Large A Charter As The Wind, To Blow On Whom I Please, For So Fools Have.