An Idle Head Is A

I Envy No Man's Nightingale Or Spring; Nor Let Them Punish Me With Loss Of Rhyme, Who Plainly Say, My God, My King.

Love And Businesse Teach Eloquence.

He That Gives Me Small Gifts Would Have Me Live.

An Ill Deede Cannot Bring Honour.

Assaile Who Will, The Valiant Attends.