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Friend, for your epitaph I'm grieved,
Where still so much is said;
One half will never be read more
Friend, for your epitaph I'm grieved,
Where still so much is said;
One half will never be believed,
The other never read.
That least pleases us which is most urged on us.
That least pleases us which is most urged on us.
Well may hee smell fire, whose gowne burnes.
[Well may he smell fire, whose gown burns.]
Well may hee smell fire, whose gowne burnes.
[Well may he smell fire, whose gown burns.]
Men speake of the faire, as things went with them there.
Men speake of the faire, as things went with them there.
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.
If folly were griefe every house would weepe.
If folly were griefe every house would weepe.
Be cautious as to what you say of men, and to whom you speak it.
Be cautious as to what you say of men, and to whom you speak it.
He who asks with timidity invites a refusal.
He who asks with timidity invites a refusal.
