So Poetry, Which Is In Oxford Made

My Hands Are Guilty, But My Heart Is Free.

I Maintain, Against The Enemies Of The Stage, That Patterns Of Piety, Decently Represented, May Second The Precepts.

A Woman's Counsel Brought Us First To Woe, And Made Her Man His Paradise Forego, Where At Heart's Ease He Liv'd; And Might Have Been As Free From Sorrow As He Was From Sin.

Bets At First Were Fool-traps, Where The Wise Like Spiders Lay In Ambush For The Flies.

Never Was Patriot Yet, But Was A Fool.