Tax Not So Bad A Voice To

Slander, Whose Whisper Over The World's Diameter, As Level As The Cannon To Its Blank, Transports Its Poisoned Shot.

Study Is Like The Heaven's Glorious Sun, That Will Not Be Deep-searched With Saucy Looks: Small Have Continual Plodders Ever Won, Save Base Authority From Others' Books.

If Circumstances Lead Me, I Will Find Where Truth Is Hid, Though It Were Hid Indeed Within The Centre.

What Cannot Be Saved When Fate Takes, Patience Her Injury A Mockery Makes

To England Will I Steal, And There I'll Steal.