Oh, God! I Have An Ill-divining Soul!

Young Men's Love Then Lies Not Truly In Their Hearts, But In Their Eyes.

Affliction Is Enamoured Of Thy Parts, And Thou Art Wedded To Calamity.

Just Death, Kind Umpire Of Men's Miseries.

Music, Moody Food Of Us That Trade In Love.

Though It Make The Unskillful Laugh, Cannot But Make The Judicious Grieve.