He Who Has Suffered You To Impose

When Sir Joshua Reynolds Died All Nature Was Degraded; The King Dropped A Tear In The Queen's Ear, And All His Pictures Faded.

I Was Angry With My Friend: I Told My Wrath, My Wrath Did End. I Was Angry With My Foe: I Told It Not, My Wrath Did Grow.

The Woman That Does Not Love Your Frowns Will Never Embrace Your Smiles.

Ah, Sunflower, Weary Of Time, Who Countest The Steps Of The Sun, Seeking After That Sweet Golden Clime Where The Traveller's Journey Is Done; Where The Youth Pined Away With Desire And The Pale Virgin Shrouded In Snow Arise From Their Graves, And Aspire Where My Sunflower Wishes To Go.

Art Is The Tree Of Life. Science Is The Tree Of Death.