Wisely Weigh Our Sorrow With Our Comfort.

Every Why Hath A Wherefore.

All The Perfumes Of Arabia Will Not Sweeten This Little Hand! Oh, Oh, Oh!

Have You Not Love Enough To Bear With Me, When That Rash Humor Which My Mother Gave Me Makes Me Forgetful.

Dumb Jewels Often, In Their Silent Kind, More Than Quick Words, Do Move A Woman's Mind.

What, All So Soon Asleep! I Wish Mine Eyes Would, With Themselves, Shut Up My Thoughts.