Vaine is the vaunt, and victory unjust, that more to mighty hands, then rightfull cause doth trust.
Ill can he rule the great that cannot reach the small.
All love is sweet Given or returned And its familiar voice wearies not ever.
It often falls, in course of common life, that right long time is overborne of wrong.
But times do change and move continually.
Oft stumbles at a straw.