My Dull Brain Was Wrought With Things

He Took The Bride About The Neck And Kissed Her Lips With Such A Clamorous Smack That At The Parting All The Church Did Echo.

I That Please Some, Try All, Both Joy And Terror Of Good And Bad, That Makes And Unfolds Error.

The Why Is Plain As Way To Parish Church: He That A Fool Doth Very Wisely Hit Doth Very Foolishly, Although He Smart, Not To Seem Senseless Of The Bob; If Not, The Wise Man's Folly Is Anatomiz'd Even By The Squand'ring Glances Of The Fool.

A Plague Of Sighing And Grief! It Blows A Man Up Like A Bladder.

I Have Nothing Of Woman In Me; Now From Head To Foot I Am Marble-constant.