Ill can he rule the great that cannot reach the small.

Change still doth reign, and keep the greater sway.

Ah! when will this long weary day have end, And lende me leave to come unto my love? - Epithalamion

Then came October, full of merry glee.

This iron world bungs down the stoutest hearts to lowest state; for misery doth bravest minds abate.

And through the hall there walked to and fro A jolly yeoman, marshall of the same, Whose name was Appetite; he did bestow Both guestes and meate, whenever in they came, And knew them how to order without blame.

The poets scrolls will outlive the monuments of stone. Genius survives; all else is claimed by death.