When I Was At Home I Was

No, No, No, No! Come, Let's Away To Prison: We Two Alone Will Sing Like Birds I' The Cage: When Thou Dost Ask Me Blessing, I'll Kneel Down, And Ask Of Thee Forgiveness: So We'll Live, And Pray, And Sing, And Tell Old Tales, And Laugh At Gilded Butterflies, And Hear Poor Rogues Talk Of Court News; And We'll Talk With Them Too, Who Loses And Who Wins; Who's In, Who's Out; And Take Upon's The Mystery Of Things, As If We Were God's Spies: And We'll Wear Out, In A Wall'd Prison, Packs And Sects Of Great Ones, That Ebb And Flow By The Moon.

Of All Base Passions, Fear Is The Most Accursed.

There's Not The Smallest Orb Which Thou Behold'st But In His Motion Like An Angel Sings.

There's Husbandry In Heaven; Their Candles Are All Out.

I Had Rather Live With Cheese And Garlic In A Windmill.