Improbus Labor, which my spirits hath broke--

Deus Nobis H?c Otia Fecit.

Assoiled live from that fiend Oc九-九-藏-書cupation--

They talk of time, and of times galling yoke,

Of divine Leisure such foul lies are九_九_藏_書 spoke,

That like a millstone on mans mind doth press,

Like Atlas bearing up the dainty sky,

That c九_九_藏_書rownd white top of Methusalem:

The heaven-sweet burthen of eternity.

Which only works and business can redr九*九*藏*書ess:

But might I, fed with silent meditation,

Yea on my weak neck take, and never forfeit,

Fling in more days thｔｔpｓ://ｒｅad•９９ｃｓｗ.ｃｏmhan went to make the gem

Wounding her fair gifts with calumnious stroke.

Id drink of times rich cup, and never surfeit: