There is no heat of affection but is joyned with some idlenesse
of brain, says the Spaniard.

There is no heat of affection but is joyned with some idlenesse
of brain, says the Spaniard.

So may the outward shows be least themselves;
The world is still deceived with ornament.
In law, read more

So may the outward shows be least themselves;
The world is still deceived with ornament.
In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt
But being seasoned with a gracious voice,
Obscures the show of evil? In religion,
What damned error but some sober brow
Will bless it and approve it with a text,
Hiding the grossness with fair ornament?

Little dogs start the Hare, the great get her.

Little dogs start the Hare, the great get her.

Good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow.

Good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow.

Her very silence, and her patience,
Speak to the people, and they pity her.

Her very silence, and her patience,
Speak to the people, and they pity her.

The generous heart
Should scorn a pleasure which gives others pain.

The generous heart
Should scorn a pleasure which gives others pain.

Should banded unions persecute
Opinions, and induce a time
When single thought is civil crime,
read more

Should banded unions persecute
Opinions, and induce a time
When single thought is civil crime,
And individual freedom mute,
. . . .
Then waft me from the harbour's mouth,
Wild wind, I seek a warmer sky.

He that sends a foole expects one.

He that sends a foole expects one.

This is the real secret of all that indignation.

This is the real secret of all that indignation.