He Is Winding The Watch Of His

Constant You Are, But Yet A Woman; And For Secrecy, No Lady Closer; For I Well Believe Thou Wilt Not Utter What Thou Dost Not Know.

She Will Die If You Love Her Not, And She Will Die Ere She Might Make Her Love Known

The Undeserver May Sleep When The Man Of Action Is Called On.

As In A Theatre, The Eyes Of Men, After A Well-graced Actor Leaves The Stage, Are Idly Bent On Him That Enters Next.

As True As Steel, As Plantage To The Moon, As Sun To Day, At Turtle To Her Mate, As Iron To Adamant, As Earth To Centre.