Men have marble, women waxen, minds.
By the apostle Paul, shadows tonight Have struck more terror to the soul of Richard Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers.
I shall show the cinders of my spirits Through the ashes of my chance.
Thou knowest, winter tames man, woman, and beast.
Use every man after his desert, and who should scape whipping?
Cursed be the hand that made these fatal holes.