You Are An Alchemist; Make Gold Of

So Now I Have Confessed That He Is Thine, And I My Self Am Mortgaged To Thy Will, My Self I'll Forfeit, So That Other Mine, Thou Wilt Restore To Be My Comfort Still.

I Hourly Learn A Doctrine Of Obedience.

The Thing Of Courage As Rous'd With Rage Doth Sympathise, And, With An Accent Tun'd In Self-same Key, Retorts To Chiding Fortune.

How Ill White Hairs Become A Fool And Jester!

It Is Not Night When I Do See Your Face.