For He That Once Is Good, Is

The Pipe Marks The Point At Which The Orangutan Ends And Man Begins.

I See Compassion May Become A Justice, Though It Be A Weakness, I Confess, And Nearer A Vice Than A Virtue.

For He That Once Is Good, Is Ever Great.

Soul Of The Age! The Applause, Delight, The Wonder Of Our Stage! My Shakespeare , Rise; I Will Not Lodge Thee By Chaucer Or Spenser , Or Bid Beaumont Lie A Little Further, To Make Thee A Room; Thou Art A Monument, Without A Tomb, And Art Alive Still, While Thy Book Doth Live, And We Have Wits To Read , And Praise To Give .

I Now Think, Love Is Rather Deaf, Than Blind, For Else It Could Not Be, That She, Whom I Adore So Much, Should So Slight Me, And Cast My Love Behind.