Good Things Should Be Praised.

Take Physic, Pomp; Expose Thyself To Feel What Wretches Feel, That Thou Mayst Shake The Superflux To Them And Show The Heavens More Just.

This Royal Throne Of Kings, This Scepter'd Isle, This Earth Of Majesty, This Seat Of Mars, This Other Eden, Demi-paradise.

O, Here Will I Set Up My Everlasting Rest And Shake The Yoke Of Inauspicious Stars From The World-wearied Flesh

My Heart Suspects More Than Mine Eye Can See.

Oh, Injurious Love, That Respites Me A Life, Whose Very Comfort Is Still A Dying Horror