![]() ![]() There is a cliff, whose high and bending head Looks fearfully in the confined deep:īring me but to the very brim of it, And I’ll repair the misery thou dost bear With something rich about me: from that place I shall no leading need. ![]() Here, take this purse, thou whom the heavens’ plagues Have humbled to all strokes: that I am wretched Makes thee the happier –heavens, deal so still! Let the superfluous and lust-dieted man, That slaves your ordinance, that will not see Because he does not feel, feel your power quickly So distribution should undo excess,Īnd each man have enough.–Dost thou know Dover? Poor Tom hath been scared out of his good wits:–bless thee, good man’s son, from the foul fiend! Five fiends have been in poor Tom at once of lust, as Obidicut Hobbididence, prince of dumbness Mahu, of stealing Modo, of murder Flibbertigibbet, of mopping and mowing,–who since possesses chambermaids and waiting women. Both stile and gate, horseway and footpath. ![]()
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