Who Riseth From A Feast

Away! Thou'rt Poison To My Blood.

Though Men Can Cover Crimes With Bold, Stern Looks, Poor Women's Faces Are Their Own Faults' Books.

If [god] Send Me No Husband, For The Which Blessing I Am At Him Upon My Knees Every Morning And Evening.

Oh, She Doth Teach The Torches To Burn Bright!

O Time, Thou Must Untangle This, Not I. It Is Too Hard A Knot For Me T'untie.