Life... Is A Paradise To What We

What Stronger Breastplate Than A Heart Untainted! Thrice Is He Arm'd, That Hath His Quarrel Just.

We That Are True Lovers Run Into Strange Capers.

If Fortune Torments Me, Hope Contents Me.

Sleep, That Sometimes Shuts Up Sorrow's Eye.

For Youth No Less Becomes The Light And Careless Livery That It Wears, Than Settled Age His Sables, And His Weeds Importing Health And Graveness.