Silence, maiden; thy tongue outruns thy discretion.

For Love will still be lord of all.

Look back, and smile on perils past.

Love rules the court, the camp, the grove, And men below, and saints above: For love is heaven, and heaven is love.

I will but confess the sins of my green cloak to my grey friar's frock, and all shall be well again.

'Tis an old tale, and often told; But did my fate and wish agree, Ne'er had been read, in story old, Of maiden true betray'd for gold, That loved, or was avenged, like me!

If you once turn on your side after the hour at which you ought to rise, it is all over. Bolt up at once.