Solitude Is A Torment Which Is Not

If Every Gnat That Flies Were An Archangel, All That Could But Tell Me That There Is A God; And The Poorest Worm That Creeps Tells Me That.

Be Thine Own Palace, Or The World's Thy Jail.

A Man That Is Not Afraid Of A Lion Is Afraid Of A Cat .

And Swear No Where Lives A Woman True, And Fair.

I Will Not Look Upon The Quickening Sun, But Straight Her Beauty To My Sense Shall Run; The Air Shall Note Her Soft, The Fire Most Pure; Water Suggest Her Clear, And The Earth Sure; Time Shall Not Lose Our Passages.