Love Is A Smoke Made With The

My Charity Is Outrage, Life My Shame; And In That Shame Still Live My Sorrow's Rage!

Let Me Confess That We Two Must Be Twain, Although Our Undivided Loves Are One.

Let The Galled Jade Wince; Our Withers Are Unwrung.

Thou Hast Nor Youth Nor Age But As It Were An After Dinner Sleep Dreaming Of Both.

Speak Comfortable Words.