A Very Scurvy Fellow.

... By Indirections Find Directions Out.

O Sleep! O Gentle Sleep! Nature's Soft Nurse.

One Whom The Music Of His Own Vain Tongue Doth Ravish Like Enchanting Harmony.

But Love Is Blind And Lovers Cannot See

I Am Afeard There Are Few Die Well That Die In Battle, For How Can They Charitably Dispose Of Anything When Blood Is Their Argument?