In Law, What Plea So Tainted And

Report Of Fashions In Proud Italy Whose Manners Still Our Tardy-apish Nation Limps After In Base Imitation

I Was Not Born Under A Rhyming Planet, Nor I Cannot Woo To In Festival Terms.

Who Is Silvia What Is She, That All Our Swains Commend Her Holy, Fair, And Wise Is She.

When A Wise Man Gives Thee Better Counsel, Give Me Mine Again.

Like One Who Draws The Model Of A House Beyond His Power To Build It Who, Half Through, Gives O'er, And Leaves His Part-created Cost A Naked Subject To The Weeping Clouds.