Who Is So Firm That Can't Be

Men At Sometime Are The Masters Of Their Fate.

Verily, I Swear, It Is Better To Be Lowly Born, And Range With Humble Livers In Content, Than To Be Perked Up In A Glistering Grief, And Wear A Golden Sorrow.

This Act Is An Ancient Tale New Told; And, In The Last Repeating, Troublesome, Being Urged At A Time Unseasonable.

Affliction May One Day Smile Again; And Till Then, Sit Thee Down, Sorrow!.

By Heaven, I'll Make A Ghost Of Him That Lets Me.