Man Hath His Daily Work Of Body

His Rod Revers'd, And Backward Mutters Of Dissevering Power.

Come And Trip It As Ye Go On The Light Fantastic Toe.

Moping Melancholy And Moon-struck Madness.

Rhime Being No Necessary Adjunct Or True Ornament Of Poem Or Good Verse, In Longer Works Especially, But The Invention Of A Barbarous Age, To Set Off Wretched Matter And Lame Meeter...the Troublesom And Modern Bondage Of Rimeing.

Say, Heavenly Pow'rs, Where Shall We Find Such Love? Which Of Ye Will Be Mortal To Redeem Man's Mortal Crime, And Just Th' Unjust To Save.