When I Was At Home I Was

Much Rain Wears The Marble.

Thou Art A Boil, A Plague Sore, An Embossed Carbuncle In My Corrupted Blood.

Full Oft We See Cold Wisdom Waiting On Superfluous Folly.

Time Is A Very Bankrupt And Owes More Than He's Worth To Season. Nay, He's A Thief Too: Have You Not Heard Men Say, That Time Comes Stealing On By Night And Day?

The Fire Seven Times Tried This; Seven Times Tried That Judgement Is That Did Never Choose Amiss Some There Be That Shadows Kiss; Such Have But A Shadows Bliss, There Be Fool Alive, I Wis Silverd O'er, And So Was This Take What Wife You Will To Bed I Will Ever Be Your Head. So Be Gone; You Are Sped.