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Of him that speakes ill, consider the life more then the word.
Of him that speakes ill, consider the life more then the word.
Now, my sere fancy "falls into the yellow
Leaf," and imagination droops her pinion;
And the sad read more
Now, my sere fancy "falls into the yellow
Leaf," and imagination droops her pinion;
And the sad truth, which hovers o'er my desk,
Turns what was once romantic to burlesque.
The ill that comes out of our mouth falles into our bosome.
The ill that comes out of our mouth falles into our bosome.
The Court hath no Almanack.
The Court hath no Almanack.
Labour with what zeal we will,
Something still remains undone,
Something uncompleted still
Waits read more
Labour with what zeal we will,
Something still remains undone,
Something uncompleted still
Waits the rising of the sun.
He that lives not well one yeare, sorrowes seven after.
He that lives not well one yeare, sorrowes seven after.
A gentlemans grayhound, and a salt-box; seeke them at the fire.
A gentlemans grayhound, and a salt-box; seeke them at the fire.
Acerra always drinks till dawn.
Acerra always drinks till dawn.
