"Good frend for Jesus sake forbeareTo digg the dust encloased heareBlese be the man that spares these stonesAnd curst be he that moves my bones"

“O God! methinks, it were a happy life,To be no better than a homely swain;To sit upon a hill, as I do now,To carve out dials quaintly, point by point,Thereby to see the minutes how they run:How many make the hour full complete,How many hours bring about the day,How many days will finish up the year,How many years a mortal man may live.”

“She's beautiful, and therefore to be woo'd;She is a woman, therefore to be won.”

“Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends.”

“Crabbed age and youth cannot live together:Youth is full of pleasure, age is full of care”

“On a day — alack the day! —Love, whose month is ever May,Spied a blossom passing fairPlaying in the wanton air”

“That deep torture may be called a hell,When more is felt than one hath power to tell.”