O Fleeting Joys Of Paradise, Dear Bought

None But Such As Are Good Men Can Give Good Things, And That Which Is Not Good, Is Not Delicious To A Well-govern'd And Wise Appetite.

Our Torments Also May In Length Of Time Become Our Elements.

Rather Than Be Less Car'd Not To Be At All.

Thick As Autumnal Leaves That Strow The Brooks In Vallombrosa, Where Th' Etrurian Shades High Over-arch'd Imbower.

From His Lips/not Words Alone Pleased Her.