What, Can The Devil Speak True?

Where Shall We Three Meet Again In Thunder, Lightning, Or In Rain? When The Hurlyburly 's Done, When The Battle 's Lost And Won

How Soar Sweet Music Is, When Time Is Broke, And No Proportion Kept!

I'll Say She Looks As Clear As Morning Roses Newly Washed With Dew.

The Eagle Suffers Little Birds To Sing.

If Men Could Be Contented To Be What They Are, There Were No Fear In Marriage.