How Glowing Guilt Exalts The Keen Delight!

Soft Is The Strain When Zephyr Gently Blows.

Not Grace, Or Zeal, Love Only Was My Call, And If I Lose Thy Love, I Lose My All.

From The Moment One Sets Up For An Author, One Must Be Treated As Ceremoniously, That Is As Unfaithfully, "as A King's Favorite Or A King.

And Hence One Master-passion In The Breast, Like Aaron's Serpent, Swallows Up The Rest.

No Craving Void Left Aching In The Soul.