Here Will Be An Old Abusing Of

There Was A Star Danced, And Under That Was I Born.

O, How Wretched Is That Poor Man That Hangs On Princes' Favors.

Thou Art Most Rich, Being Poor; Most Choice, Forsaken; And Most Lov'd, Despis'd! Thee And Thy Virtues Here I Seize Upon.

What, Shall One Of Us, That Struck For The Foremost Man Of All This World But For Supporting Robbers--shall We Now Contaminate Our Fingers With Base Bribes, And Sell The Mighty Space Of Our Large Honors For So Much Trash As May Be Grasped Thus?

O Momentary Grace Of Mortal Men, Which We More Hunt For Than The Grace Of God!