Exceeds Man's Might: That Dwells With The

My Hounds Are Bred Out Of The Spartan Kind; So Flew'd, So Sanded; Their Heads Are Hung With Ears That Sweep Away The Morning Dew.

No .... Holy Father, Throw Away That Thought. Believe Not That The Dribbling Dart Of Love Can Pierce A Complete Bosom.

I Know A Place Where The Wild Thyme Blows, Where Oxlips And The Nodding Violet Grows.

How Oft The Sight Of Means To Do Ill Deeds Makes Ill Deeds Done!

All The World's A Stage, And All The Men And Women Mearly Players.