No Reckoning Made, But Sent To My

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

Let Fancy Still In My Sense In Lethe Steep; If It Be Thus To Dream, Still Let Me Sleep!

We, Ignorant Of Ourselves, Beg Often Our Own Harms, Which The Wise Powers Deny Us For Our Good; So Find We Profit By Losing Of Our Prayers.

The Last Taste Of Sweets Is Sweetest Last.

Thou Whoreson, Senseless Villain!