A wretched soul, bruised with adversity, We bid be quiet when we hear it cry; But were we burdened with light weight of pain, As much or more we should ourselves complain.

Come, and take choice of all my library, And so beguile thy sorrow.

I desire you in friendship, and I will one way or other make you amends.

Let life be short, else shame will be too long.

Give me my robe, put on my crown; I have Immortal longings in me.

When Caesar says, 'Do this', it is performed.

He that will have a cake out of the wheat must tarry the grinding.