--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."

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.

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.

A plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another!

A plague upon it when thieves cannot be true one to another!

In vain we call old notions fudge
And bend our conscience to our dealing.
The Ten Commandments read more

In vain we call old notions fudge
And bend our conscience to our dealing.
The Ten Commandments will not budge
And stealing will continue stealing.

'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.

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.

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.

Well, well, be it so, thou strongest their of all,
For thou hast stolen my will, and made it read more

Well, well, be it so, thou strongest their of all,
For thou hast stolen my will, and made it thine.