Would The Cook Were O' My Mind!

With Mirth And Laughter Let Old Wrinkles Come.

Obey Thy Parents, Keep Thy Word Justly; Swear Not; Commit Not With Man's Sworn Spouse; Set Not Thy Sweet Heart On Proud Array. * * * Keep Thy Foot Out Of Brothels, Thy Pen From Lenders' Books.

Your Face, My Thane, Is As A Book Where Men May Read Strange Matters. To Beguile The Time, Look Like The Time; Bear Welcome In Your Eye, Your Hand, Your Tongue: Look Like The Innocent Flower, But Be The Serpent Under't.

The Sweat Of Industry Would Dry And Die, But For The End It Works To.

You Undergo Too Strict A Paradox, Striving To Make An Ugly Deed Look Fair.