Crack me open,
Pour ye out of me,
Come forth ye that dwell,
Within the bounds of this cask,
For I must conceal thee no more,
Or have I not such dispositions
As have been so by lot endued
To many a man as I've known?
Whence comes joy?
Whence sprouts the rue
The love and hatred inside?
Or say restrain and wantonness?
Whence comes amity 'n rancor?
Why, then, must I trammel thee,
Whilst thou hast been sowd' in me
For little decencies in behavior?
I must be as I am,
And rightly so attend,
To what must be attended to,
To the varieties and abundance,
That seldom ever see the light,
Lest they so incline me to ends,
That another considers not worth,
But doesn't a wheel need its cogs?