Oft have ye heard my canty strains; But now, what else for me remains But tales of woe

But this it is that doth excruciate The verie ſubſtance of my vexed ſoule: To ſee our neighbours that were wont to quake And tremble at the Perſean Monarkes name, Now ſits and laughs our regiment to ſcorne, […]

Those data are debatable: no one has been able to replicate them.

A man of genius […] doomed to struggle with difficulties.