Ay Me! Sad Hours Seem Long.

This Look Of Thine Will Hurl My Soul From Heaven.

Foul Deeds Will Rise, Though All The Earth O'erwhelm Them, To Men's Eyes.

Reputation, Reputation, Reputation! O, I Ha' Lost My Reputation, I Ha' Lost The Immortal Part Of Myself, And What Remains Is Bestial!

Hope Is A Lover's Staff; Walk Hence With That And Manage It Against Despairing Thoughts.

Who Are The Violets Now That Strew The Lap Of The New-come Spring?