Nature's Tears Are Reason's Merriment.

There's Little Of The Melancholy Element In Her, My Lord: She Is Never Sad But When She Sleeps; And Not Ever Sad Then; For I Have Heard My Daughter Say, She Hath Often Dreamt Of Unhappiness, And Waked Herself With Laughing.

Haply A Woman's Voice May Do Some Good When Articles Too Nicely Urged Be Stood On.

For We, Which Now Behold These Present Days, Have Eyes To Wonder, But Lack Tongues To Praise.

There Is A History In All Men's Lives, Figuring The Nature Of The Times Deceased, The Which Observed, A Man May Prophesy, With A Near Aim, Of The Main Chance Of Things As Yet Not Come To Life, Which In Their Seeds And Weak Beginnings Lie Intreasured.

Then Happy I That Love And Am Beloved, Where I May Not Remove Nor Be Removed.