Let The Galled Jade Wince; Our Withers

If We Shadows Have Offended, Think But This, And All Is Mended, That You Have But Slumber'd Here While These Visions Did Appear.

Read O'er This And After, This, And Then To Breakfast With What Appetite You Have.

Let Me Not Live, After My Flame Lacks Oil, To Be The Snuff Of Younger Spirits.

Those Friends Thou Hast, And Their Adoption Tried, Grapple Them To Thy Soul With Hoops Of Steel; But Do Not Dull Thy Palm With Entertainment Of Each New-hatch'd, Unfledg'd Comrade.

What E'er Thou Art, Act Well Thy Part.