Their manners are more gentle, kind, than of our generation you shall find.

At this hour
Lie at my mercy all mine enemies.

Pour on, I will endure.

Hear my soul speaks:
The very instant that I saw you did
My heart fly to your service, there resides
to make me slave to it, and for your sake
Am I this patient log-man.

Then to the elements be free

What win I if I gain the thing I seek?
A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy.
Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week?
Or sells eternity to get a toy?