Gnarling Sorrow Hath Less Power To Bite

Love Sees With The Heart And Not With Mind.

I Have Pursued Her, As Love Hath Pursued Me

Do Not Speak Like A Death's-head, Do Not Bid Me Remember Mine End.

Time Hath, My Lord, A Wallet At His Back Wherein He Puts Alms For Oblivion, A Great-sized Monster Of Ingratitudes: Those Scraps Are Good Deeds Past, Which Are Devour'd As Fast As They Are Made, Forgot As Soon As Done.

Was Ever Woman In This Humour Wooed? Was Ever Woman In This Humour Won?