Tis Not The Many Oaths That Make

Words Are Grown So False, I Am Loath To Prove Reason With Them.

If It Will Feed Nothing Else, It Will Feed My Revenge.

In Scorn Of Nature, Art Gave Lifeless Life.

My Love Is Deep; The More I Give To Thee, The More I Have, Both Are Infinite.

Beauty, Wit, High Birth, Vigour Of Bone, Desert In Service, Love, Friendship, Charity, Are Subjects All To Envious And Calumniating Time.