I am so lated in the world, that I Have lost my way for ever:

I try not to get rickrolled by sketchy YouTube links, but sometimes you let your guard down.

It were when my father were employed as mason under 'brick and mortar Benson,' as they called him, for repairs of a wall, and they were short of stones, and they chipped up the figure I be telling you of.

Her Vine, the merry chearer of the heart, / Vnpruned, dyes: her Hedges euen pleach'd, / Like Priſoners wildly ouer-growne with hayre, / Put forth diſorder'd Twigs: … Her [France's] vine [i.e. grapevines which produce wine], the merry cheerer of the heart / Unpruned, dies; her hedges, though [once] evenly pleached, / Like prisoners wildly overgrown with hair, / Put forth disordered twigs; …