Nothing 'gainst Times Scythe Can Make Defence.

A Sympathy In Choice.

Report Of Fashions In Proud Italy Whose Manners Still Our Tardy-apish Nation Limps After In Base Imitation

Life... Is A Paradise To What We Know Of Death.

I Have Of Late--but Wherefore I Know Not--lost All My Mirth, Forgone All Custom Of Exercise.

I Hope To See London Once Ere I Die.