I Must Have Liberty Withal, As Large

He's Loved Of The Distracted Multitude, Who Like Not In Their Judgement, But Their Eyes.

What Many Men Desire--that 'many' May Be Meant By The Fool Multitude That Choose By Show, Not Learning More Than The Fond Eye Doth Teach, Which Pries Not To Th' Interior, But Like The Martlet Builds In The Weather On The Outward Wall, Even In The Force And Road Of Casualty.

Now All The Youth Of England Are On Fire, And Silken Dalliance In The Wardrobe Lies; Now Thrive The Armorers, And Honor's Thought Reigns Solely In The Breast Of Every Man.

For God's Sake, Let Us Sit Upon The Ground And Tell Sad Stories Of The Death Of Kings.

He Makes A July's Day Short As December.