Nothing In His Life Became Him Like

There's Nothing In This World Can Make Me Joy: Life Is As Tedious As A Twice-told Tale Vexing The Dull Ear Of A Drowsy Man; And Bitter Shame Hath Spoil'd The Sweet World's Taste That It Yields Nought But Shame And Bitterness.

To Sleep Perchance To Dream

He Wears His Faith But As The Fashion Of His Hat.

My Love Is As A Fever, Longing Still.

He That Is Strucken Blind Can Not Forget The Precious Treasure Of His Eyesight Lost.