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Who steals a bugle-horn, a ring, a steed,
Or such like worthless thing, has some discretion;
'Tis read more
Who steals a bugle-horn, a ring, a steed,
Or such like worthless thing, has some discretion;
'Tis petty larceny: not such his deed
Who robs us of our fame, our best possession.
For she sitteth at the door of her house, on a seat in the high
places of the city,
read more
For she sitteth at the door of her house, on a seat in the high
places of the city,
To call passengers who go right on their ways:
Whoso is simple, let him turn in hither: and as for him that
wanteth understanding, she saith to him,
Stolen waters are sweet, and bread eaten in secret is pleasant.
'Tis bad enough in man or woman
To steal a goose from off a common;
But surely read more
'Tis bad enough in man or woman
To steal a goose from off a common;
But surely he's without excuse
Who steals a common from the goose.
Stolen sweets are always sweeter:
Stolen kisses much completer;
Stolen looks are nice in chapels:
read more
Stolen sweets are always sweeter:
Stolen kisses much completer;
Stolen looks are nice in chapels:
Stolen, stolen be your apples.
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--
A plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another!
A plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another!
Do villainy, do, since you protest to do't,
Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery:
The sun's read more
Do villainy, do, since you protest to do't,
Like workmen. I'll example you with thievery:
The sun's a thief, and with his great attraction
Robs the vast sea; the moon's an arrant thief,
And her pale fire she snatches from the sun;
The sea's a thief, whose liquid surges resolves
The moon into salt tears; the earth's a thief,
That feeds and breeds by a composture stol'n
From gen'ral excrement.
Never thrust your own sickle into another's corn.
Never thrust your own sickle into another's corn.
To keep my hands from picking and stealing.
To keep my hands from picking and stealing.