Is Twenty Hundred Kisses Such A Trouble?

But It Is A Melancholy Of Mine Own, Compounded Of Many Simples, Extracted From Many Objects, And Indeed The Sundry Contemplation Of My Travels, Which, By Often Rumination, Wraps Me In The Most Humorous Sadness.

She Is Mine Own, And I As Rich In Having Such A Jewel As Twenty Seas, If All Their Sand Were Pearl, The Water Nectar, And The Rocks Pure Gold.

Like As The Waves Make Towards The Pebbl'd Shore, So Do Our Minutes, Hasten To Their End.

At Once, Good Night- Stand Not Upon The Order Of Your Going, But Go At Once.

The Time Of Universal Peace Is Near. Prove This A Prosp'rous Day, The Three-nooked World Shall Bear The Olive Freely.