Where The Greater Malady Is Fixed, The

Had I No Eyes But Ears, My Ears Would Love. That Inward Beauty And Invisible; Or Were I Deaf, Thy Outward Parts Would Move Each Part In Me That Were But Sensible: Though Neither Eyes Nor Ears, To Hear Nor See, Yet Should I Be In Love By Touching Thee. 'say, That The Sense Of Feeling Were Bereft Me, And That I Could Not See, Nor Hear, Nor Touch, And Nothing But The Very Smell Were Left Me, Yet Would My Love To Thee Be Still As Much; For From The Stillitory Of Thy Face Excelling Comes Breath Perfum'd That Breedeth Love By Smelling.

Life Every Man Holds Dear; But The Dear Man Holds Honor Far More Precious Dear Than Life.

Britain Is A World By Itself, And We Will Nothing Pay For Wearing Our Own Noses.

But Here's The Joy: My Friend And I Are One, Sweet Flattery!

Comfort's In Heaven, And We Are On The Earth