Then Come Kiss Me, Sweet And Twenty.

Weep I Cannot; But My Heart Bleeds.

I Am Wealthy In My Friends.

And Oftentimes Excusing Of A Fault Doth Make The Fault The Worse By The Excuse.

O Sir, You Are Old; Nature In You Stands On The Very Verge Of Her Confine; You Should Be Ruled And Led By Some Discretion, That Discerns Your Fate Better Than You Yourself.

And Keep You In The Rear Of Your Affection, Out Of The Shot And Danger Of Desire, The Chariest Maid Is Prodigal Enough If She Unmasks Her Beauty To The Moon.