What Art Thou Faustus, But A Man

Where Both Deliberate, The Love Is Slight: Who Ever Lov'd, That Lov'd Not At First Sight?

He That Loves Pleasure Must For Pleasure Fall.

Ah Fair Zenocrate, Divine Zenocrate, Fair Is Too Foul An Epithet For Thee.

Is It Not Passing Brave To Be A King And Ride In Triumph Through Persepolis?

O, Thou Art Fairer Than The Evening Air Clad In The Beauty Of A Thousand Stars.