A Horse, A Horse, My

Why Should You Think That I Should Woo In Scorn? Scorn And Derision Never Come In Tears: Look, When I Vow, I Weep; And Vows So Born, In Their Nativity All Truth Appears. How Can These Things In Me Seem Scorn To You, Bearing The Badge Of Faith, To Prove Them True?

Being Holiday, The Beggar's Shop Is Shut.

Not Stepping Over The Bounds Of Modesty.

Then Others For Breath Of Words Respect, Me For My Dumb Thoughts, Speaking In Effect.

You Shall More Command With Years Than With Your Weapons.