The Bitter Past, More Welcome Is The

Oh, Flatter Me; For Love Delights In Praises.

I Will Make A Star-chamber Matter Of It.

Life... Is A Paradise To What We Know Of Death.

Neither My Place, Nor Aught I Heard Of Business, Hath Raised Me From My Bed; Nor Doth The General Care Take Hold On Me; For My Particular Grief Is Of So Floodgate And O'erbearing Nature That It Engluts And Swallows Other Sorrows, And It Is Still Itself.

Help, Master, Help! Here's A Fish Hangs In The Net, Like A Poor Man's Right In The Law; 'twill Hardly Come Out.