Improbus Labor, which my spirits hath broke--

Deus Nobis H?c Otia Fecit.

Assoiled live from that fiend Ocreａｄ•９９csｗ•ｃｏｍcupation--

They talk of time, and of times galling yoke,

Of divine Leisure such foul lieｈttpｓ://reaｄ•９９ｃsw.ｃoms are spoke,

That like a millstone on mans mind doth press,

Like Atlas bearing up the dain九*九*藏*書ty sky,

That crownd white top of Methusalem:

The heaven-sweet burthen of eternity.

Which only works and busine九-九-藏-書ss can redress:

But might I, fed with silent meditation,

Yea on my weak neck take, and never forfeit,

Fling in more d九九藏書ays than went to make the gem

Wounding her fair gifts with calumnious stroke.

Id drink of times rich cup, and never surfeit: