When I Waked, I Cried To Dream

The Weight Of This Sad Time We Must Obey, Speak What We Feel, Not What We Ought To Say. The Oldest Hath Borne Most: We That Are Young Shall Never See So Much, Nor Live So Long.

For Trust Not Him That Hath Once Broken Faith

Tears Harden Lust, Though Marble Wear With Raining.

Why, Look You, I Am Whipp'd And Scourg'd With Rods, Nettled And Stung With Pismires[nettles], When I Hear Of This Vile Politician, Bolingbroke.

He Is The Half Part Of A Blessed Man, Left To Be Finished By Such As She; And She A Fair Divided Excellence, Whose Fullness Of Perfection Lies In Him.