Beauty Too Rich For Use, For Earth

Look Like The Innocent Flower, But Be The Serpent Under It.

Justice Always Whirls In Equal Measure.

The Benediction Of These Covering Heavens Fall On Their Heads Like Dew, For They Are Worthy To Inlay Heaven With Stars.

So All My Best Is Dressing Old Words New.

Look, What Envious Streaks Do Lace The Severing Clouds In Yonder East! Night's Candles Are Burnt Out, And Jocund Day Stands Tip-toe On The Misty Mountain-tops.