Places, where they may lie still warme, to chuse.
So workes retirednesse in us; To rome
Giddily, and be every where, but at home,
30Such freedome doth a banishment become.
Wee are but farmers of our selves, yet may,
If we can stocke our selves, and thrive, uplay
Much, much deare treasure for the great rent day.
Manure thy selfe then, to thy selfe be'approv'd,
35And with vaine outward things be no more mov'd,
But to know, that I love thee'and would be lov'd.