A Pretty Woman Is A Welcome Guest.

Shakespeare's Name, You May Depend On It, Stands Absurdly Too High And Will Go Down.

She Walks In Beauty, Like The Night Of Cloudless Climes And Starry Skies; And All That's Best Of Dark And Bright Meet In Her Aspect And Her Eyes.

This Quiet Sail Is As A Noiseless Wing To Waft Me From Distraction.

'tis Sweet To Know There Is An Eye Will Mark Our Coming, And Look Brighter When We Come.

Reason Is So Unreasonable, That Few People Can Say They Are In Possession Of It.