Who like sour fruit to stir their veins' salt tides.

Who like sour fruit to stir their veins' salt tides.

There is no heat of affection but is joyned with some idlenesse
of brain, says the Spaniard.

There is no heat of affection but is joyned with some idlenesse
of brain, says the Spaniard.

Although the last, not least.

Although the last, not least.

The Chicken is the Countries, but the Citie eats it.

The Chicken is the Countries, but the Citie eats it.

To make a mountain of a mole-hill.

To make a mountain of a mole-hill.

Accursed poison lies hid beneath sweet honey.

Accursed poison lies hid beneath sweet honey.

The mind still longs for what it has missed, and loses itself in
the contemplation of the past.

The mind still longs for what it has missed, and loses itself in
the contemplation of the past.

I too am not powerless, and my weapons strike hard.

I too am not powerless, and my weapons strike hard.

What loss feels he that wots not what he loses?

What loss feels he that wots not what he loses?