Every Subject's Duty Is The Kings, But

Put Forth Thy Hand, Reach At The Glorious Gold.

We Suffer A Lot The Few Things We Lack And We Enjoy Too Little The Many Things We Have.

Henceforth, I'll Bear Affliction Till It Do Cry Out Itself, 'enough, Enough, And Die.

How Art Thou Out Of Breath When Thou Hast Breath To Say To Me That Thou Art Out Of Breath?

And Therefore, — Since I Cannot Prove A Lover, To Entertain These Fair Well-spoken Days, — I Am Determined To Prove A Villain, And Hate The Idle Pleasures Of These Days.