You Know That I Do Fawn On

O Prosperina, For The Flowers Now That, Frighted, Thou Let'st Fall From Dis's Wagon; Daffodils, That Come Before The Swallow Dares, And Take The Winds Of March With Beauty; Violets Dim, But Sweeter Than The Lids Of Juno's Eyes Or Cytherea's Breath; Pale Primroses, That Die Unmarried, Ere They Can Behold Bright Phoebus In His Strength--a Malady Most Incident To Maids; Bold Oxlips And The Crown Imperial; Lilies Of All Kinds, The Flower-de-luce Being One.

Those, That With Haste Will Make A Mighty Fire, Begin It With Weak Straws.

Tis Much When Sceptres Are In Children's Hands, But More When Envy Breeds Unkind Division: There Comes The Ruin, There Begins Confusion.

Chewing The Food Of Sweet And Bitter Fancy.

A Woman Would Run Through Fire And Water For Such A Kind Heart.