When I Love, As Some Have Told Love I Shall, When I Am Old, O Ye Graces! Make Me Fit For The Welcoming Of It! Clean My Rooms, As Temples Be, To Entertain That Deity; Give Me Words Wherewith To Woo, Suppling And Successful Too; Winning Postures; And Withal, Manners Each Way Musical; Sweetness To Allay My Sour And Unsmooth Behaviour: For I Know You Have The Skill Vines To Prune, Though Not To Kill; And Of Any Wood Ye See, You Can Make A Mercury.