My Salad Days, When I Was Green

We Wound Our Modesty And Make Foul The Clearness Of Our Deservings, When Of Ourselves We Publish Them.

Nature Hath Meal And Bran, Contempt And Grace.

I Desire You In Friendship, And I Will One Way Or Other Make You Amends.

Full Of Wise Saws And Modern Instances.

Leave Us To Our Free Election.