Midnight Shout And Revelry, Tipsy

Then Might Ye See Cowls, Hoods, And Habits With Their Wearers Tost And Flutter'd Into Rags; Then Reliques, Beads, Indulgences, Dispenses, Pardons, Bulls, The Sport Of Winds; All These Upwhirl'd Aloft Fly To The Rearward Of The World Far Off Into A Limbo Large And Broad, Since Called The Paradise Of Fools.

New Presbyter Is But Old Priest Writ Large.

For Such Kind Of Borrowing As This, If It Be Not Bettered By The Borrowers, Among Good Authors Is Accounted Plagiarè.

Few Sometimes May Know, When Thousands Err.

Not To Know Me Argues Yourselves Unknown.