If I For My Opinion Bleed, Opinion

One Half Of Me Is Yours, The Other Half Is Yours, Mine Own, I Would Say; But If Mine, Then Yours, And So All Yours.

Wolves And Bears, They Say, Casting Their Savagery Aside, Have Done Like Offices Of Pity.

Now, Good Digestion Wait On Appetite, And Health On Both!

She Is Your Treasure, She Must Have A Husband; I Must Dance Bare-foot On Her Wedding Day, And, For Your Love To Her, Lead Apes In Hell.

The Language I Have Learnt These Forty Years, My Native English, Now I Must Forgo; And Now My Tongue's Use Is To Me No More Than An Unstringed Viol Or A Harp, Or Like A Cunning Instrument Cased Up Or, Being Open, Put Into His Hands That Knows No Touch To Tune The Harmony.