To Beguile The Time, Look Like The

A Horse, A Horse, My Kingdom For A Horse!

Alas, That Love, Whose View Is Muffled Still, Should Without Eyes See Pathways To His Will!

To Mourn A Mischief That Is Past And Gone Is The Next Way To Draw New Mischief On.

What Freezings I Have Felt, What Dark Days Seen, What Old December's Bareness Everywhere!

O Coward Conscience, How Dost Thou Afflict Me!