My Crown Is Called Content, A Crown

O Prosperina, For The Flowers Now That, Frighted, Thou Let'st Fall From Dis's Wagon; Daffodils, That Come Before The Swallow Dares, And Take The Winds Of March With Beauty; Violets Dim, But Sweeter Than The Lids Of Juno's Eyes Or Cytherea's Breath; Pale Primroses, That Die Unmarried, Ere They Can Behold Bright Phoebus In His Strength--a Malady Most Incident To Maids; Bold Oxlips And The Crown Imperial; Lilies Of All Kinds, The Flower-de-luce Being One.

Truth Will Come To Sight; Murder Cannot Be Hid Long.

Men Shut Their Doors Against A Setting Sun.

Thou Knowest, Winter Tames Man, Woman, And Beast.

But Clay And Clay Differs In Dignity, Whose Dust Is Both Alike.