So Long As Men Can Breathe, Or

Neither My Place, Nor Aught I Heard Of Business, Hath Raised Me From My Bed; Nor Doth The General Care Take Hold On Me; For My Particular Grief Is Of So Floodgate And O'erbearing Nature That It Engluts And Swallows Other Sorrows, And It Is Still Itself.

All The Contagion Of The South Light On You, You Shames Of Rome! You Herd Of--boils And Plagues Plaster You O'er; That You May Be Abhorr'd Further Than Seen, And One Infect Another Against The Wind A Mile!

No Beast So Fierce But Knows Some Touch Of Pity. But I Know None, And Therefore Am No Beast.

Holy, Fair, And Wise Is She; The Heaven Such Grace Did Lend Her, That She Might Admired Be.

If I Can Catch Him Once Upon The Hip, I Will Feed Fat The Ancient Grudge I Bear Him.