How Much An Ill Word May Empoison

The Sands Are Number'd That Make Up My Life; Here Must I Stay, And Here My Life Must End.

For In That Sleep Of Death What Dreams May Come.

Suffer Love; A Good Epithet! I Do Suffer Love, Indeed, For I Love Thee Against My Will.

One Fire Burns Out Another's Burning, One Pain Is Lessen'd By Another's Anguish.

I Am Wrapped In Dismal Thinking.