Tender-handed stroke a nettle,
And it stings you for your pains;
Grasp it like a man of read more

Tender-handed stroke a nettle,
And it stings you for your pains;
Grasp it like a man of mettle,
And it soft as silk remains.
'Tis the same with common natures,
Use 'em kindly, they rebel;
But, be rough as nutmeg-graters,
And the rogues obey you well.

'Tis gone: a thousand such have slipt
Away from my embraces:
And fallen into the dusty crypt
read more

'Tis gone: a thousand such have slipt
Away from my embraces:
And fallen into the dusty crypt
Of darken'd forms and faces.

'Tis not the fight that crowns us, but the end.

'Tis not the fight that crowns us, but the end.

France is a meddow that cuts thrice a yeere.

France is a meddow that cuts thrice a yeere.

Strike up the dance, the cava bowl fill high.

Strike up the dance, the cava bowl fill high.

Whether goest, griefe? where I am wont.

Whether goest, griefe? where I am wont.

Speech is silvern, silence is golden.

Speech is silvern, silence is golden.

Idle folks have the most labour.

Idle folks have the most labour.

In war, hunting, and love, men for one pleasure a thousand
griefes prove.

In war, hunting, and love, men for one pleasure a thousand
griefes prove.