Could Beauty, My Lord, Have

There's Husbandry In Heaven; Their Candles Are All Out.

Good Old Grandsire ... We Shall Be Joyful Of Thy Company.

I'll Privily Away; I Love The People, But Do Not Like To Stage Me To Their Eyes; Though It Do Well, I Do Not Relish Well Their Loud Applause And Aves Vehement, Nor Do I Think The Man Of Safe Discretion That Does Not Affect It.

Let Them Obey That Knows Not How To Rule.

O Powerful Love, That In Some Respects Makes A Beast A Man, In Some Other, A Man A Beast.