As chaste as is the bud ere it be blown.
Thou shalt be free As mountain winds: but then exactly do All points of my command.
How long a time lies in one little word?
The tempter or the tempted, who sins most? Ha! Not she: nor doth she tempt: but it is I That, lying by the violet in the sun, Do as the carrion does, not as the flower, Corrupt with virtuous season.
The bitter clamor of two eager tongues.
Take no repulse, whatever she doth say; For 'get you gone,' she doth not mean 'away.' Flatter and praise, commend, extol their graces; Though ne'er so black, say they have angels' faces