Quote: What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?
I have heard of your paintings too, well enough; God has given you one face, and you make yourselves another.
Violent fires soon burn out themselves, small showers last long, but sudden storms are short; he tires betimes that spurs too fast.
They lie deadly that tell you have good faces.
As you from crimes would pardon'd be, Let your indulgence set me free.
Hate pollutes the mind.