Methought I Was Enamour'd Of An Ass.

Lovers Ever Run Before The Clock

The Time Of Universal Peace Is Near. Prove This A Prosp'rous Day, The Three-nooked World Shall Bear The Olive Freely.

How Low Am I, Thou Painted Maypole?

O You Beast! I'll So Maul You And Your Toasting-iron, That You Shall Think The Devil Is Come From Hell.

Because I Cannot Flatter And Look Fair, Smile In Men's Faces, Smooth, Deceive, And Cog, Duck With French Nods And Apish Courtesy, I Must Be Held A Rancorous Enemy.