The Miserable Have No Other Medicine But

Fit For The Mountains And The Barbarous Caves, Where Manners Ne'er Were Preached.

[marriage Is] A World-without-end Bargain.

An Arrant Traitor As Any Is In The Universal World, Or In France, Or In England.

To Me, Fair Friend, You Never Can Be Old, For As You Were When First Your Eye I Eyed, Such Seems Your Beauty Still. Three Winters Cold Have From The Forests Shook Three Summers' Pride, Three Beauteous Springs To Yellow Autumn Turn'd In Process Of The Seasons Have I Seen, Three April Perfumes In Three Hot Junes Burn'd, Since First I Saw You Fresh, Which Yet Are Green.

We, Ignorant Of Ourselves, Beg Often Our Own Harms, Which The Wise Powers Deny Us For Our Good; So Find We Profit By Losing Of Our Prayers.