So Full Of Shapes Is Fancy

Silence Is The Perfectest Herault Of Joy. I Were But Little Happy If I Could Say How Much.

Ingrateful Man With Liquorish Draughts, And Morsels Unctuous, Greases His Pure Mind That From It All Consideration Slips.

Love Like A Shadow Flies When Substance Love Pursues Pursuing That That Flies, And Flying What Pursues.

Those That Do Teach Young Babes Do It With Gentle Means And Easy Tasks.

O Ceremony, Show Me But Thy Worth? What Is Thy Soul Of Adoration? Art Thou Aught Else But Place, Degree, And Form, Creating Awe And Fear In Other Men?