Be Not Thy Tongue Thy

In Scorn Of Nature, Art Gave Lifeless Life.

I'll Give My Jewels For A Set Of Beads, My Gorgeous Palace For A Hermitage, My Gay Apparel For An Almsman's Gown, My Figured Goblets For A Dish Of Wood, My Scepter For A Palmer's Walking Staff My Subjects For A Pair Of Carved Saints And My Large Kingdom For A Little Grave.

What's Past And What's To Come Is Strew'd With Husks And Formless Ruin Of Oblivion.

The Due Of Honor In No Point Omit.

Love Is Your Master, For He Masters You; And He That Is So Yoked By A Fool Methinks Should Not Be Chronicled For Wise.