Where No Hope Is Left, Is Left

A Limbo Large And Broad, Since Call'd The Paradise Of Fools To Few Unknown.

To Be Blind Is Not Miserable; Not To Be Able To Bear Blindness, That Is Miserable.

Herbs, And Other Country Messes, Which The Neat-handed Phillis Dresses.

There Is No Truth Sure Enough To Justify Persecution.

So May'st Thou Live, Till Like Ripe Fruit Thou Drop Into Thy Mother's Lap.