Heaven is above all yet; there sits a judge, That no king can corrupt.
'Twas merry when You wagered on your angling, when your diver Did hang a salt fish on his hook, which he With fervency drew up.
Farewell, fair cruelty.
Would I were in an alehouse in London.
This tyrant, whose sole name blisters our tongues,Was once thought honest.
Love's best habit is a soothing tongue