I Am Such A Tender

But Whate'er I Am, Nor I Nor Any Man That But Man Is, With Nothing Shall Be Pleased 'til He Be Eased With Being Nothing.

My Stars Shine Darkly Over Me

Because I Cannot Flatter And Look Fair, Smile In Men's Faces, Smooth, Deceive, And Cog, Duck With French Nods And Apish Courtesy, I Must Be Held A Rancorous Enemy.

Why, This Hath Not A Finger's Dignity.

Nor Aught So Good But Strained From That Fair Use, Revolts From True Birth Stumbling On Abuse.