'twas Merry When You Wagered On Your

There Are A Sort Of Men, Whose Visages Do Cream And Mantle, Like A Standing Pond; And Do A Willful Stillness Entertain, With Purpose To Be Dressed In An Opinion Of Wisdom, Gravity Profound Conceit; As Who Should Say, I Am Sir Oracle, And When I Ope My Lips, Let No Dog Bark!

Cease To Lament For That Thou Canst Not Help; And Study Help For That Which Thou Lamentest.

Who Finds The Heifer Dead And Bleeding Fresh And Sees Fast-by A Butcher With An Axe, But Will Suspect 'twas He That Made The Slaughter?

A Rarer Spirit Never Did Steer Humanity; But You Gods Will Give Us Some Faults To Make Us Men.

Glory Is Like A Circle In The Water