For I Can Raise No Money By

Blest Are Those Whose Blood And Judgment Are So Well Commingled, That They Are Not A Pipe For Fortune's Finger To Sound What Stop She Please.

But Flies An Eagle Flight, Bold And Forth On, Leaving No Tract Behind.

Well, Whiles I Am A Beggar, I Will Rail, And Say There Is No Sin But To Be Rich; And Being Rich, My Virtue Then Shall Be To Say There Is No Vice But Beggary

What, Keep A Week Away? Seven Days And Nights, Eightscore-eight Hours, And Lovers' Absent Hours More Tedious Than The Dial Eightscore Times! O Weary Reckoning!

I Have Heard It Said There Is An Art Which In Their Piedness Shares With Great Creating Nature.