Nor Age So Eat Up My Invention.

And Be These Juggling Friends No More Believ'd, That Palter With Us In A Double Sense; That Keep The Word Of Promise To Our Ear And Break It To Our Hope.

Help, Master, Help! Here's A Fish Hangs In The Net, Like A Poor Man's Right In The Law; 'twill Hardly Come Out.

You Have But Mistook Me All The While... I Live By Bread Like You, Taste Grief, Feel Want, Need Friends. Conditioned Thus How Can You Call Me King?

A Hand As Fruitful As The Land That Feeds Us; His Dew Falls Everywhere.

I Am Such A Tender Ass, If My Hair Do But Tickle Me, I Must Scratch.