Out Of Her Favour, Where I Am

My Hounds Are Bred Out Of The Spartan Kind; So Flew'd, So Sanded; Their Heads Are Hung With Ears That Sweep Away The Morning Dew.

To Be In Anger Is Impiety, But Who Is Man That Is Not Angry?

Coal-black Is Better Than Another Hue In That It Scorns To Bear Another Hue; For All The Water In The Ocean Can Never Turn The Swan's Black Legs To White, Although She Lave Them Hourly In The Flood.

Well, Whiles I Am A Beggar, I Will Rail, And Say There Is No Sin But To Be Rich; And Being Rich, My Virtue Then Shall Be To Say There Is No Vice But Beggary

Because I Cannot Flatter And Look Fair, Smile In Men's Faces, Smooth, Deceive, And Cog, Duck With French Nods And Apish Courtesy, I Must Be Held A Rancorous Enemy.