Thus Sometimes Hath The Brightest

What, With My Tongue In Your Tail? Nay, Come Again, Good Kate; I Am A Gentleman.

Do Not, As Some Ungracious Pastors Do, Show Me The Steep And Thorny Way To Heaven; Whilst, Like A Puff'd And Reckless Libertine, Himself The Primrose Path Of Dalliance Treads And Recks Not His Own Read.

Wisely, And Slow. They Stumble That Run Fast.

I Have More Care To Stay Than Will To Go.

As Full Of Spirit As The Month Of May, And As Gorgeous As The Sun In Midsummer.