Be Lion-mettled, Proud, And Take No Care

My Charity Is Outrage, Life My Shame; And In That Shame Still Live My Sorrow's Rage!

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

The Very Instant I Saw You, Did My Heart Fly To Your Service; There Resides To Make Me Slave To It. ...mine Unworthiness, That Dare Not Offer What I Desire To Give, And Much Less Take What I Shall Die To Want.

I Have Heard It Said There Is An Art Which In Their Piedness Shares With Great Creating Nature.

But What's So Blessed-fair That Fears No Blot? Thou Mayst Be False, And Yet I Know It Not.