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--To live
On means not yours--be brave in silks and laces,
Gallant in steeds; splendid in banquets; read more
--To live
On means not yours--be brave in silks and laces,
Gallant in steeds; splendid in banquets; all
Not yours. Given, uninherited, unpaid for;
This is to be a trickster; and to filch
Men's art and labour, which to them is wealth,
Life, daily bread;--quitting all scores with "friend,
You're troublesome!" Why this, forgive me,
Is what, when done with a less dainty grace,
Plain folks call "Theft."
Stolen sweets are best.
Stolen sweets are best.
The Frier preached against stealing, and had a goose in his
sleeve.
[The Friar preached against stealing, and read more
The Frier preached against stealing, and had a goose in his
sleeve.
[The Friar preached against stealing, and had a goose in his
sleeve.]
A murderer and a villain,
A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe
Of your precedent read more
A murderer and a villain,
A slave that is not twentieth part the tithe
Of your precedent lord, a vice of kings,
A cutpurse of the empire and the rule,
That from a shelf the precious diadem stole
And put it in his pocket--
He that is robbed, not wanting what is stol'n,
Let him not know't, and he's not robbed at all.
He that is robbed, not wanting what is stol'n,
Let him not know't, and he's not robbed at all.
O villain, thou hast stol'n both mine office and my name!
The one ne'er got me credit, the other read more
O villain, thou hast stol'n both mine office and my name!
The one ne'er got me credit, the other mickle blame.
The robbed that smiles steals something from the thief,
He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.
The robbed that smiles steals something from the thief,
He robs himself that spends a bootless grief.
Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing.
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands;
read more
Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing.
'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands;
But he that filches from me my good name
Robs me of that which not enriches him
And makes me poor indeed.
Yet thanks I must you con
That you are thieves professed, that you work not
In holier read more
Yet thanks I must you con
That you are thieves professed, that you work not
In holier shapes; for there is boundless theft
In limited professions.
