What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks?

How Far That Little Candle Throws Its Beams! So Shines A Good Deed In A Naughty World.

Now, My Masters, Happy Man Be His Dole, Say I; Every Man To His Business.

Great Men May Jest With Saints; 'tis Wit In Them; But, In The Less Foul Profanation.

For He Was Likely, Had He Been Put On, To Have Proved Most Royally.

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.