That England, That Was Wont To Conquer

Contention, Like A Horse, Full Of High Feeding, Madly Hath Broke Loose, And Bears Down All Before Him.

Time Is Like A Fashionable Host That Slightly Shakes His Parting Guest By The Hand, And With His Arm Outstretch'd, As He Would Fly, Grasps In The Comer.

There's Not A Shirt And A Half In All My Company, And The Half Shirt Is Two Napkins Tacked Together And Thrown Over The Shoulders Like A Herald's Coat Without Sleeves.

How Easy It Is For The Proper-false In Woman's Waxen Hearts To Set Their Forms!

Being Your Slave What Should I Do But Tend, Upon The Hours, And Times Of Your Desire? I Have No Precious Time At All To Spend; Nor Services To Do Till You Require.