Though I Am Not Naturally Honest, I

Here Will Be An Old Abusing Of God's Patience And The King's English.

Free From Gross Passion Or Of Mirth Of Anger Constant Spirit, Not Swerving With The Blood, Garnish'd And Deck'd In Modest Compliment, Not Working With The Eye Without The Ear, And But In Purged Judgement Trusting Neither? Such And So Finely Bolted Didst Thou Seem.

The Bitter Past, More Welcome Is The Sweet.

Each Substance Of A Grief Has Twenty Shadows.

That Which Ordinary Men Are Fit For, I Am Qualified In. And The Best Of Me Is Diligence.