My Chastity's The Jewel Of Our House,

What Must Be Shall Be.

Love's Not Time's Fool, Though Rosy Lips And Cheeks Within His Bending Sickle's Compass Come; Love Alters Not With His Brief Hours And Weeks, But Bears It Out Even To The Edge Of Doom. If This Be Error And Upon Me Prov'd, I Never Writ, Nor No Man Ever Lov'd.

Scratching Could Not Make It Worse, An't Were Such A Face As Yours Were.

Knowing I Lov'd My Books, He Furnish'd Me From Mine Own Library With Volumes That I Prize Above My Dukedom.

Love's Not Love When It Is Mingled With Regards That Stand Aloof From Th' Entire Point.