Well, Honor Is The Subject Of My

Hardness Ever Of Hardness Is Mother.

What: Is The Jay More Precious Than The Lark Because His Feathers Are More Beautiful?

For Grief Is Crowned With Consolation.

Good Morrow, 'tis Saint Valentine's Day, All In The Morn Betime, And I A Maid At Your Window, To Be Your Valentine.

So Loving To My Mother, That He Might Not Beteem The Winds Of Heaven, Visit Her Face' Too Roughly.