Sweet Words Are Like Honey,

Sin And Shame Ever Go Together; He That Would Be Freed From The Last Must Be Sure To Shun The Company Of The First.

I Am Obnoxious To Each Carping Tongue/ Who Says My Hand A Needle Better Fits./ A Poet's Pen All Scorn I Should Thus Wrong/ For Such Despite They Cast On Female Wits;/ If What I Do Prove Well, It Won't Advance,/ They'll Say It's Stolen, Or Else, It Was By Chance.

Satan, That Great Angler, Hath His Sundry Baits For Sundry Tempers Of Men, Which They All Catch Greedily At, But Few Perceive The Hook Till It Be Too Late.

Let Greeks Be Greeks, And Women What They Are.

My Age I Will Not Once Lament, / But Sing, My Time So Near Is Spent.