After the number of the days in which ye searched the land, even
forty days, each day for a read more

After the number of the days in which ye searched the land, even
forty days, each day for a year, shall ye bear your iniquities,
even forty years, and ye shall know my breach of promise.

She that with poetry is won,
Is but a desk to write upon;
And what men say read more

She that with poetry is won,
Is but a desk to write upon;
And what men say of her they mean
No more than on the thing they lean.

Better be courted and jilted
Than never be courted at all.

Better be courted and jilted
Than never be courted at all.

There is a tide in the affairs of women
Which, taken at the flood, leads--God knows where.

There is a tide in the affairs of women
Which, taken at the flood, leads--God knows where.

Duncan Gray cam here to woo,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't!
On blithe Yuletide when we were read more

Duncan Gray cam here to woo,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't!
On blithe Yuletide when we were fou,
Ha, ha, the wooing o't!
Maggie coost her head fu' high,
Looked asklent and unco skeigh,
Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh:
Ha, ha! the wooing o't!

Blessed is the wooing
That is not long a-doing.

Blessed is the wooing
That is not long a-doing.

How often in the summer-tide,
His graver business set aside,
His stripling Will, the thoughtful-eyed
read more

How often in the summer-tide,
His graver business set aside,
His stripling Will, the thoughtful-eyed
As to the pipe of Pan,
Stepped blithesomely with lover's pride
Across the fields to Anne.

Do proper homage to thine idol's eyes;
But no too humbly, or she will despise
Thee and read more

Do proper homage to thine idol's eyes;
But no too humbly, or she will despise
Thee and thy suit, though told in moving tropes:
Disguise even tenderness if thou art wise.

Alas! to seize the moment
When the heart inclines to heart,
And press a suit with passion,
read more

Alas! to seize the moment
When the heart inclines to heart,
And press a suit with passion,
Is not a woman's part.
If man come not to gather
The roses where they stand,
They fade among their foliage,
They cannot seek his hand.