Love Does Not See With The Eyes,

I Will Make A Star-chamber Matter Of It.

I Feel Within Me A Peace Above All Earthly Dignities, A Still And Quiet Conscience.

This Bud Of Love, By Summer's Ripening Breath, May Prove A Beauteous Flower When Next We Meet

That, Sir, Which Serves And Seeks For Gain, And Follows But For Form, Will Pack, When It Begins To Rain, And Leave Thee In A Storm.

Children Wish Fathers Looked But With Their Eyes; Fathers That Children With Their Judgment Looked; And Either May Be Wrong.