You Shall More Command With Years Than

Rest You Fair, Good Signior; Your Worship Was The Last Man In Our Mouths.

Thy Husband Is Thy Lord, Thy Life, Thy Keeper, Thy Head, Thy Sovereign; One That Cares For Thee, And For Thy Maintenance Commits His Body To Painful Labour Both By Sea And Land, To Watch The Night In Storms, The Day In Cold, Whilst Thou Liest Warm At Home, Secure And Safe; And Craves No Other Tribute At Thy Hands But Love, Fair Looks And True Obedience; Too Little Payment For So Great A Debt.

I Cannot Draw A Cart, Nor Eat Dried Oats; If It Be Man's Work, I'll Do't.

In Right And Service To Their Noble Country.

Hate Pollutes The Mind.