There is no traitor like him whose domestic treason plants the poniard within the breast that trusted to his truth
And gentle winds and waters near, make music to the lonely ear.
I really cannot know whether I am or am not the Genius you are pleased to call me, but I am very willing to put up with the mistake, if it be one.
Had sigh'd to many, though he loved but one.
By headless Charles see heartless Henry lies.
My heart in passion, and my head on rhymes.