Love Is Too Young To Know What

Society Is No Comfort, To One Not Sociable.

But If The While I Think On Thee, Dear Friend, All Losses Are Restored And Sorrows End.

This Passion, And The Death Of A Dear Friend, Would Go Near To Make A Man Look Sad.

I Shall Laugh Myself To Death At This Puppy-headed Monster!

What Is Light, If Sylvia Be Not Seen? What Is Joy If Sylvia Be Not By?