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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=539448" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On A Dissembler</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Could any shewe where Plynyes people dwell<br>Whose head stands in their breast; who cannot tell<br>A smoothing lye because their open hart<br>And lippes are joyn'd so neare, I would depart<br>As quick as thought, and there forgett the wrongs<br>Which I have suffer'd by deceitfull tongues.<br>I should depart where soules departed bee,<br>Who being freed from cloudy flesh, can see<br>Each other so immediately, so cleare<br>That none needs tongue to speak, nor ears to hear.<br>Were tongues intended to express the soule,<br>And can wee better doe't with none at all?<br>Were words first made our meaning to reveale,<br>And are they usde our meaning to conceale?<br>The ayre by which wee see, will that turne fogg?<br>Our breath turne mist? Will that become a clogg<br>That should unload the mynde? Fall we upon<br>Another Babell's sub-confusion?<br>And in the self-same language must wee finde<br>A diverse faction of the words and minde?<br>Dull as I am, that hugg'd such emptie ayre,<br>And never mark't the deede (a phrase more faire,<br>More trusty and univocall): joyne well<br>Three or foure actions, we may quickly spell<br>A hollow hart: if those no light can lend<br>Read the whole sentence, and observe the end:<br>I will not wayte so long: the guilded man<br>On whom I ground my speech, no longer can<br>Delude my sense; nor can the gracefull arte<br>Of kind dissembling button upp his hart.<br>His well-spoke wrongs are such as hurtfull words<br>Writt in a comely hand; or bloody swords<br>Sheath'd upp in velvett; if hee draw on mee<br>My armour proofe is incredulity.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Strode">William Strode</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=539448" data-title="On A Dissembler de William Strode" data-description="Could any shewe where Plynyes people dwell
Whose head stands in their breast; who cannot tell
A smoothing lye because their open hart
And lippes are joyn'd so neare, I would depart
As quick as thought, and there forgett the wrongs
Which I have suf..."></div>
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