O world, how apt the poor are to be proud!
Done to death by slanderous tongue
I cannot but remember such things were that were most precious to me.
For grief is crowned with consolation.
Refrain to-night; And that shall lend a kind of easiness To the next abstinence, the next more easy; For use almost can change the stamp of nature, And either master the devil or throw him out With wondrous potency.
Tis safter to be that which we destroy Than by destruction dwell in doubtful joy.