T is the will that makes the action good or ill.
Fain would I kiss my Julia's dainty leg, Which is as white and hairless as an egg.
Some asked me where the rubies grew, And nothing I did say; But with my finger pointed to The lips of Julia.
None pities him that is in the snare, who warned before, would not beware.
When a daffadill I see, Hanging down his head towards me, Guess I may, what I must be: First, I shall decline my head; Secondly, I shall be dead: Lastly, safely buryed.
Tears are the noble language of eyes, and when true love of words is destitute. The eye by tears speak, while the tongue is mute.