All Surfeit Is The Father

So, Good Night Unto You All. Give Me Your Hands, If We Be Friends, And Robin Shall Restore Amends.

Wisdom Cries Out In The Streets, And No Man Regards It.

Time Is Like A Fashionable Host That Slightly Shakes His Parting Guest By The Hand, And With His Arm Outstretch'd, As He Would Fly, Grasps In The Comer.

Tis The Mind That Makes The Body Rich.

Sick In The World's Regard, Wretched And Low.