A feeble dart short of its mark.

A feeble dart short of its mark.

Whether goest, griefe? where I am wont.

Whether goest, griefe? where I am wont.

The web of life is of mingled yarn, good and ill together.

The web of life is of mingled yarn, good and ill together.

Trust not those cunning waters of his eyes,
For villany is not without such rheum.

Trust not those cunning waters of his eyes,
For villany is not without such rheum.

To be too busie gets contempt.

To be too busie gets contempt.

There is no man, though never so little, but sometimes he can
hurt.

There is no man, though never so little, but sometimes he can
hurt.

The sense of death is most in apprehension,
And the poor beetle that we tread upon
In read more

The sense of death is most in apprehension,
And the poor beetle that we tread upon
In corporal sufferance finds a pang as great
As when a giant dies.

How the devil is it that fresh features
Have such a charm for us poor human creatures?

How the devil is it that fresh features
Have such a charm for us poor human creatures?

But that old man, who is lord of the broad estate and the hall,
Dropped off gorged from a read more

But that old man, who is lord of the broad estate and the hall,
Dropped off gorged from a scheme which left us flaccid and
drained.