He Makes A July's Day Short As

When Thou Cam'st First, Thou Strok'st Me And Made Much Of Me; Wouldst Give Me Water With Berries In't; And Teach Me How To Name The Bigger Light, And How The Less, That Burn By Day And Night; And Then I Loved Thee And Showed Thee All The Qualities O' Th' Isle, The Fresh Springs, Brine-pits, Barren Place And Fertile.

To Be Once In Doubt Is Once To Be Resolved.

For Sorrow Ends Not, When It Seemeth Done.

Holy, Fair, And Wise Is She; The Heaven Such Grace Did Lend Her, That She Might Admired Be.

Beauty Itself Doth Of Itself Persuade The Eyes Of Men Without An Orator.