A Careless Shoe String, In Whose Tie

Praise They That Will Times Past, I Joy To See My Selfe Now Live: This Age Best Pleaseth Mee.

Art Quickens Nature; Care Will Make A Face; Neglected Beauty Perisheth Apace.

Then Be Not Coy, But Use Your Time; And While Ye May, Go Marry: For Having Lost But Once Your Prime, You May For Ever Tarry.

Thou Art My Life, My Love, My Heart, The Very Eyes Of Me: And Hast Command Of Every Part To Live And Die For Thee.

In Prayer The Lips Ne'er Act The Winning Part, Without The Sweet Concurrence Of The Heart.