I Love You With So Much Of

I Praise God For You, Sir: Your Reasons At Dinner Have Been Sharp And Sententious; Pleasant Without Scurrility, Witty Without Affectation, Audacious Without Impudency, Learned Without Opinion, And Strange With-out Heresy.

Thou Know'st 'tis Common; All That Lives Must Die, Passing Through Nature To Eternity.

What Should We Speak Of When We Are Old As You? When We Shall Hear The Rain And Wind Beat Dark December? How, In This Our Pinching Cave, Shall We Discourse The Freezing Hours Away?

Parting Is Such Sweet Sorrow

Hereafter, In A Better World Than This, I Shall Desire More Love And Knowledge Of You