Young Men's Love Then Lies Not Truly

O Gentle Son, Upon The Heat And Flame Of Thy Distemper, Sprinkle Cool Patience.

My Joy Is Death- Death, At Whose Name I Oft Have Been Afeard, Because I Wish'd This World's Eternity.

Men's Vows Are Women's Traitors

Pardon, Gentles All, The Flat Unraised Spirits That Have Dared On This Unworthy Scaffold To Bring Forth So Great An Object.

And It Is Very Much Lamented,... That You Have No Such Mirrors As Will Turn Your Hidden Worthiness Into Your Eye That You Might See Your Shadow.