O Madam, My Old Heart Is Cracked,

Thy Food Is Such As Hath Been Belch'd On By Infected Lungs.

For Where Is Any Author In The World Teaches Such Beauty As A Woman's Eye?

The Icy Precepts Of Respect.

Make The Doors Upon A Woman's Wit, And It Will Out At The Casement; Shut That, And 'twill Out At The Key-hole; Stop That, 'twill Fly With The Smoke Out At The Chimney.

Love's Not Time's Fool, Though Rosy Lips And Cheeks Within His Bending Sickle's Compass Come.