I Can Hardly Forbear Hurling Things At

But Now I Am Cabined, Cribbed, Confined, Bound In To Saucy Doubts And Fears.

Ingratitude Is Monstrous; And For The Multitude To Be Ingrateful Were To Make A Monster Of The Multitude; Of Which We Being Members, Should Bring Ourselves To Be Monstrous Members.

We Make Trifles Of Terrors, Ensconcing Ourselves Into Seeming Knowledge, When We Should Submit Ourselves To An Unknown Fear.

Like A Red Morn That Ever Yet Betokened, Wreck To The Seaman, Tempest To The Field, Sorrow To The Shepherds, Woe Unto The Birds, Gusts And Foul Flaws To Herdmen And To Herds.

Better Three Hours Too Soon Than A Minute Too Late.