Sick In The World's Regard, Wretched And

Life Is As Tedious As Twice-told Tale, Vexing The Dull Ear Of A Drowsy Man.

Why Should We Rise Because 'tis Light? Did We Lie Down Because T'was Night?

When A Man's Verses Cannot Be Understood, Nor A Man's Good Wit Seconded With The Forward Child Understanding, It Strikes A Man More Dead Than A Great Reckoning In A Little Room. Truly, I Would The Gods Had Made Thee Poetical.

Most Subject Is The Fattest Soil To Weeds.

What Should Such Fellows As I Do Crawling Between Earth And Heaven?