Work-Book

 1   T-I|      of saying by chance what isn’t needed!~The reader, prompted,
 2  T-II| condemned Muses, my reproach?~Isn’t one well-deserved punishment
 3  T-II|  Circus! The Circus’s freedom isn’t safe:~here a girl sits
 4  T-II|        glow in our houses,~so isn’t there a little painting
 5 T-III|      me you have no hour that isn’t sad.~Still if my fate’
 6 T-III|     short, we’ve nothing that isn’t mortal,~except the benefits
 7   T-V|    you know yourself, my Muse isn’t eager for applause.~Still
 8   T-V|   merciful than him it obeys.~Isn’t it true, that, though
 9  ExII|   dropsy.~Sorrow too at times isn’t curable by skill –~or,
10  ExII|  always be given for favours,~isn’t it due your position to
11   ExI|    injured.~Some might say it isn’t wise. I admit it.~But
12   ExI|         in this one thing she isn’t hostile to me.~Welcome