For God's Sake Hold Your

But I Do Nothing Upon Myself, And Yet I Am My Own Executioner.

Then Love Is Sin, And Let Me Sinful Be.

To Roam Giddily, And Be Everywhere But At Home, Such Freedom Doth A Banishment Become.

Good Is Not Good, Unless A Thousand It Possess, But Doth Waste With Greediness.

Send Home My Long Strayed Eyes To Me, Which (oh) Too Long Have Dwelt On Thee.