Was I Deceiv'd, Or Did A Sable

O Sun, To Tell Thee How I Hate Thy Beams That Bring To My Remembrance From What State I Fell, How Glorious Once Above Thy Sphere.

Ladies, Whose Bright Eyes Rain Influence, And Judge The Prize.

License They Mean When They Cry Liberty; For Who Loves That, Must First Be Wise And Good.

The Work Under Our Labour Grows, Luxurious By Restraint.

It Is Lawful And Hath Been Held So Through All Ages For Any One Who Have The Power To Call To Account A Tyrant Or Wicked King, And After Due Conviction To Depose And Put Him To Death.