O father Abram, what these Christians are, Whose own hard dealing teaches them suspect The thoughts of others!

He hath a heart as sound as a bell, and his tongue is the clapper; for what his heart thinks his tongue speaks.

Hold, or cut bowstrings.

One pain is lessened by another's anguish.

I begin to find an idle and fond bondage in the oppression of aged tyranny, who sways, not as it hath power, but as it is suffered.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks within his bending sickle's compass come.

How many fond fools serve mad jealousy!