Come Not Within The Measure

Bosom Upon My Counsel; You'll Find It Wholesome.

Words To Deeds Cold Breath Gives.

For There Was Never Yet Philosoper That Could Endure The Toothache Patiently, However They Have Writ The Style Of Gods, And Made A Push At Chance And Sufferance.

It Is The Stars, The Stars Above Us, Govern Our Conditions.

There's Nothing Ill Can Dwell In Such A Temple. If The Ill Spirit Have So Fair A House, Good Things Will Strive To Dwell With't