But Think That We Are But Turned

Never Start With Tomorrow To Reach Eternity. Eternity Is Not Being Reached By Small Steps.

How Great Love Is, Presence Best Trial Makes, But Absence Tries How Long This Love Will Be.

Lust-bred Diseases Rot Thee.

I Wonder By My Troth, What Thou, And I Did, Till We Loved? Were We Not Weaned Till Then? But Sucked On Country Pleasures, Childishly? Or Snorted We In The Seven Sleepers' Den?

Verse Hath A Middle Nature: Heaven Keeps Souls, The Grave Keeps Bodies, Verse The Fame Enrols.