Fie, fie, how frantically I square my talk!
I have been studying how I may compare This prison where I live unto the world; And, for because the world is populous, And here is not a creature but myself, I cannot do it. Yet I'll hammer it out.
Let me not live, after my flame lacks oil, to be the snuff of younger spirits.
Love is too young to know what conscience is.
Comfort's in heaven, and we are on the earth
Soft pity enters an iron gate.