To Saucy Doubts And Fears.

O, She Misused Me Past The Endurance Of A Block.

To Me, Fair Friend, You Never Can Be Old, For As You Were When First Your Eye I Eyed, Such Seems Your Beauty Still. Three Winters Cold Have From The Forests Shook Three Summers' Pride, Three Beauteous Springs To Yellow Autumn Turn'd In Process Of The Seasons Have I Seen, Three April Perfumes In Three Hot Junes Burn'd, Since First I Saw You Fresh, Which Yet Are Green.

If The Masses Can Love Without Knowing Why, They Also Hate Without Much Foundation.

Experience Is By Industry Achieved, And Perfected By The Swift Course Of Time.

And Where Two Raging Fires Meet Together, They Do Consume The Thing That Feeds Their Fury.