I Charge Thee, Hence, And

For Which Of My Bad Parts Didst Thou First Fall In Love With Me?

In Winter's Tedious Nights Sit By The Fire With Good Old Folks, And Let Them Tell Thee Tales Of Woeful Ages, Long Ago Betid

The Amity That Wisdom Knits Not, Folly May Easily Untie.

The Weariest And Most Loathed Worldly Life, That Age, Ache, Penury And Imprisonment Can Lay On Nature Is A Paradise, To What We Fear Of Death.

In Thy Foul Throat Thou Liest.