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“Without the door let sorrow lie,
And if for cold it hap to die,
We'll bury 't in a Christmas pie,
And evermore be merry.”
―
And if for cold it hap to die,
We'll bury 't in a Christmas pie,
And evermore be merry.”
―
“Yea, now I see, methinks what weak and vain
Supporters I have sought, to help sustain
My fainting heart; when injurious hand
Would undermine the station where I stand.
Methinks I see how scurvy, and how base
It is, to scrape for favors and for grace
To men of earthly minds, and unto those
Who may, perhaps, before to-morrow, lose
Their wealth, or their abused authority,
And stand as much in want of help as I.”
―
Supporters I have sought, to help sustain
My fainting heart; when injurious hand
Would undermine the station where I stand.
Methinks I see how scurvy, and how base
It is, to scrape for favors and for grace
To men of earthly minds, and unto those
Who may, perhaps, before to-morrow, lose
Their wealth, or their abused authority,
And stand as much in want of help as I.”
―
