The Devil Hath Power To Assume A

Who Are The Violets Now That Strew The Lap Of The New-come Spring?

How Low Am I, Thou Painted Maypole?

Now All The Youth Of England Are On Fire, And Silken Dalliance In The Wardrobe Lies; Now Thrive The Armorers, And Honor's Thought Reigns Solely In The Breast Of Every Man.

As He Was Valiant, I Honour Him. But As He Was Ambitious, I Slew Him.

The Weakest Kind Of Fruit Drops Earliest To The Ground.