Un-thread the rude eye of rebellion, and welcome home again discarded faith.
What is light, if Sylvia be not seen? What is joy if Sylvia be not by?
Good old grandsire ... we shall be joyful of thy company.
Well, whiles I am a beggar, I will rail, And say there is no sin but to be rich; And being rich, my virtue then shall be To say there is no vice but beggary
If we are true to ourselves, we can not be false to anyone.
Many a true word hath been spoken in jest.