Every True Man's Apparel Fits

By My Troth, I Care Not; A Man Can Die But Once; We Owe God A Death And Let It Go Which Way It Will He That Dies This Year Is Quit For The Next

Beauty Is But A Vain And Doubtful Good; A Shining Gloss That Fadeth Suddenly; A Flower That Dies When It Begins To Bud; A Doubtful Good, A Gloss, A Glass, A Flower, Lost, Faded, Broken, Dead Within An Hour.

I...kisss The Tender Inward Of Thy Hand.

When Holy And Devout Religious Men Are At Their Beads, 'tis Hard To Draw Them Thence; So Sweet Is Zealous Contemplation.

Let Me Embrace Thee, Sour Adversity, For Wise Men Say It Is The Wisest Course.