The Seasons Change Their Manners, As The

For In The Fatness Of These Pursy Times Virtue Itself Of Vice Must Pardon Beg.

As You From Crimes Would Pardon'd Be, Let Your Indulgence Set Me Free.

The Sweetest Honey Is Loathsome In His Own Deliciousness.

These Cardinals Trifle With Me; I Abhor; This Dilatory Sloth And Tricks Of Rome.

No Doubt They Rose Up Early To Observe The Rite Of May; And, Hearing Our Intent, Came Here In Grace Of Our Solemnity.