And Gain Is Gain, However Small.

'tis Well Averred, A Scientific Faith's Absurd.

Might She Have Loved Me? Just As Well She Might Have Hated, Who Can Tell!

I, Painting From Myself And To Myself, Know What I Do, Am Unmoved By Men's Blame Or Their Praise Either.

I Show You Doubt, To Prove That Faith Exists.

A Pretty Woman's Worth Some Pains To See, Nor Is She Spoiled, I Take It, If A Crown Completes The Forehead Pale And Tresses Pure.