And All My Mother Came Into Mine

What Is Light, If Sylvia Be Not Seen? What Is Joy If Sylvia Be Not By?

I Had Rather Be A Toad, And Live Upon The Vapor Of A Dungeon Than Keep A Corner In The Thing I Love For Others Uses.

Silence Is The Perfectest Herald Of Joy: I Were But Little Happy, If I Could Say How Much. Lady, As You Are Mine, I Am Yours: I Give Away Myself For You And Dote Upon The Exchange.

When Faced With A Sea Of Troubles, Take Action, And In So Doing End It.

The Native Hue Of Resolution Is Sicklied O'er With The Pale Cast Of Thought; And Enterprises Of Great Pitch And Moment, With This Regard, Their Currents Turn Awry, And Lose The Name Of Action.