For there's no motion
That tends to vice in man, but I affirm
It is the woman's read more

For there's no motion
That tends to vice in man, but I affirm
It is the woman's part.

How can man die better,
Than facing fearful odds
For the ashes of this fathers
read more

How can man die better,
Than facing fearful odds
For the ashes of this fathers
And the temples of his gods?

There's not a string attuned to mirth,
But has its chord in melancholy.

There's not a string attuned to mirth,
But has its chord in melancholy.

What king so strong,
Can tie the gall up in a slanderer's tongue?

What king so strong,
Can tie the gall up in a slanderer's tongue?

Good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow.

Good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow.

He that pitties another, remembers himselfe.

He that pitties another, remembers himselfe.

Better times perhaps await us who are now wretched.

Better times perhaps await us who are now wretched.

I talk of cheese, you of chalk.

I talk of cheese, you of chalk.

And we must take the current when it serves;
Or lose our ventures.

And we must take the current when it serves;
Or lose our ventures.