Dancing is a frenzyand a rage.

Thou art true and honest as a dog.

Deeds are males, words females are.

Wit,--the pupil of the soul's clear eye.

Zeal without knowledge is the sister of folly.

I know myself a Man-- Which is a proud and yet a wretched thing.

What more than madness reigns, when one short sitting many hundreds drains.

Hence it is that old men do plant young trees, the fruit whereof another age shall take.

For what made that in glory shine so long But poets' Pens, pluckt from Archangels' wings?

Much like a subtle spider which doth sit In middle of her web, which spreadeth wide; If aught do touch the utmost thread of it, She feels it instantly on every side.

I know my soul hath power to know all things, Yet is she blind and ignorant in all: I know I'm one of Nature's little kings, Yet to the least and vilest things am thrall.

If aught can teach us aught, Affliction's looks, Making us pry into ourselves so, near, Teach us to know ourselves, beyond all books, Or all the learned schools that ever were.

This is the slowest, yet the daintiest sense; For ev'n the ears of such as have no skill, Perceive a discord, and conceive offence; And knowing not what's good, yet find the ill.

We may conceive an hope that the next generation will in tongue and heart and every way else become English; so as there will be no difference or distinction but the Irish sea betwixt us.

These wickets of the soul are plac'd so high, Because all sounds do highly move aloft; And that they may not pierce too violently, They are delay'd with turns and twinings oft. For should the voice directly strike the brain, It would astonish and confuse it much; Therefore these plaits and folds the sound restrain. That it the organ may more gently touch.

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