He Must Needs Go That The Devil

What Should Such Fellows As I Do Crawling Between Earth And Heaven?

You Will Never Age For Me, Nor Fade, Nor Die.

He Uses His Folly Like A Stalking-horse, And Under The Presentation Of That He Shoots His Wit.

Let There Be Gall Enough In Thy Ink, Though Thou Write With A Goose-pen, No Matter.

But Thou Art Fair, And At Thy Birth, Dear Boy, Nature And Fortune Join'd To Make Thee Great: Of Nature's Gifts Thou Mayst With Lilies Boast, And With The Half-blown Rose; But Fortune, O!