Improbus Labor, which my spirits hath broke--

Deus Nobis H?c Otia Fecit.

Assoiled live from that fiend Ochttps://read.99csw.comcupation--

They talk of time, and of times galling yoke,

Of divine Leisure such foul liｈttps://ｒｅａｄ.９9cｓw.ｃoｍes 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 businessread.99csw.com can redress:

But might I, fed with silent meditation,

Yea on my weak neck take, and never forfeit,

Fling in more dhttps://read.99csw.comays than went to make the gem

Wounding her fair gifts with calumnious stroke.

Id drink of times rich cup, and never surfeit: