Why, This Hath Not A Finger's Dignity.

Every Why Has A Wherefore.

Things Are Often Spoke And Seldom Meant.

As Love Is Full Of Unbefitting Strains, All Wanton As A Child, Skipping And Vain, Form'd By The Eye And Therefore, Like The Eye, Full Of Strange Shapes, Of Habits And Of Forms, Varying In Subjects As The Eye Doth Roll To Every Varied Object In His Glance

Receive What Cheer You May. The Night Is Long That Never Finds The Day.

So Full Of Shapes Is Fancy