Foolery, Sir, Does Walk About The Orb

One Man In His Time Plays Many Parts.

For Love, Thou Know'st, Is Full Of Jealousy

I Have Ventured, Like Little Wanton Boys That Swim On Bladders, This Many Summers In A Sea Of Glory, But Far Beyond My Depth. My High-blown Pride At Length Broke Under Me, And Now Has Left Me, Weary And Old With Service, To The Mercy Of A Rude Stream That Must For Ever Hide Me.

Scratching Could Not Make It Worse, An't Were Such A Face As Yours Were.

To Unpathed Waters, Undreamed Shores.