How Every Fool Can Play Upon The

A Wretched Soul, Bruised With Adversity, We Bid Be Quiet When We Hear It Cry. But Were We Burd'ned With Like Weight Of Pain, As Much Or More We Should Ourselves Complain: So Thou, That Hast No Unkind Mate To Grieve Thee, With Urging Helpless Patience Wouldst Relieve Me; But If Thou Live To See Like Right Bereft, This Fool-begged Patience In Thee Will Be Left.

Go To You Bosom: Knock There, And Ask Your Heart What It Doth Know.

Put On The Dauntless Spirit Of Resolution.

... I Am At War 'twixt Will And Will Not.

Love Is Merely A Madness.