Presume Not That I Am

It Is The Bright Day That Brings Forth The Adder, And That Craves Wary Walking.

He's All My Exercise, My Mirth, My Matter.

Time's The King Of Men; He's Both Their Parent, And He Is Their Grave, And Gives Them What He Will, Not What They Crave.

The Rarer Action Is In Virtue Than In Vengeance.

O, What Men Dare Do! What Men May Do! What Men Daily Do, Not Knowing What They Do.