And sleep, that sometime shuts up sorrow's eye, Steal me awhile from mine own company.
Let the doors be shut upon him, that he may play the fool no where but in's own house.
Many dream not to find, neither deserve, and yet are steeped in favors.
The golden age is before us, not behind us.
Who seeks, and will not take, when once 'tis offer'd, Shall never find it more.
They are hare-brain'd slaves.