I Almost Die For Food, And Let

It Is Not Enough To Speak, But To Speak Truee

Virtue That Transgresses Is But Patched With Sin; And Sin That Amends Is But Patched With Virtue.

My Love Is Strengthen'd, Though More Weak In Seeming; I Love Not Less, Though Less The Show Appear: That Love Is Merchandised Whose Rich Esteeming The Owner's Tongue Doth Publish Every Where.

Ornament Is But The Guiled Shore To A Most Dangerous Sea.

Why Didst Thou Promise Such A Beauteous Day And Make Me Travel Forth Without My Cloak, To Let Base Clouds O'ertake Me In My Way, Hiding They Brav'ry In Their Rotten Smoke?