Henry Wotton (1568 – 1639)
English author and diplomat.
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How happy is he born and taught,
That serveth not another's will;
Whose armor is his honest thought,
And simple truth his utmost skill!
You meaner beauties of the night,
That poorly satisfy our eyes
More by your number than your light;
You common people of the skies,
What are you when the sun shall rise?
[Translated]: Here lies the author of this phrase: "The itch for disputing is the sore of churches." Seek his name elsewhere.
Lord of himself, though not of lands;
And having nothing, yet hath all.
Love lodged in a woman's breast
Is but a guest.
I am but a gatherer and disposer of other men's stuff.
The itch of disputing will prove the scab of churches.
Who God doth late and early pray,
More of his grace than gifts to send,
And entertains the harmless day
With a well-chosen book or friend.
An ambassador is an honest man sent to lie abroad for the commonwealth.
Hanging was the worst use a man could be put to.
He first deceased; she for a little tried
To live without him, liked it not, and died.
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