What Showers Arise, Blown With The Windy

Why, Headstrong Liberty Is Lashed With Woe. There's Nothing Situate Under Heaven's Eye But Hath His Bound, In Earth, In Sea, In Sky.

And Gentlemen In England Now-a-bed Shall Think Themselves Accurs'd They Were Not Here, And Hold Their Manhoods Cheap Whiles Any Speaks That Fought With Us Upon Saint Crispin's Day.

By God, I Cannot Flatter, I Do Defy The Tongues Of Soothers! But A Braver Place In My Heart's Love Hath No Man Than Yourself. Nay, Task Me To My Word; Approve Me, Lord.

Have Not Saints Lips, And Holy Palmers Too Ay, Pilgrim, Lips That They Must Use In Prayer.

Ne'er Ask Me What Raiment I'll Wear, For I Have No More Doublets Than Backs, No More Stockings Than Legs, Nor No More Shoes Than Feet--nay, Sometime More Feet Than Shoes, Or Such Shoes As My Toes Look Through The Overleather.