None But Blockheads Copy Each Other.

If You Trap The Moment Before It's Ripe, The Tears Of Repentence You'll Certainly Wipe; But If Once You Let The Ripe Moment Go You Can Never Wipe Off The Tears Of Woe.

Thou Fair-hair'd Angel Of The Evening, Now, Whilst The Sun Rests On The Mountains, Light Thy Bright Torch Of Love; Thy Radiant Crown Put On, And Smile Upon Our Evening Bed!

And We Are Put On Earth A Little Space, That We May Learn To Bear The Beams Of Love.

When Thou Seest An Eagle, Thou Seest A Portion Of Genius; Lift Up Thy Head!

Mans Desires Are Limited By His Perceptions; None Can Desire What He Has Not Perceived.