Some Kinds Of Baseness Are Nobly Undergone.

There Is A Willow Grows Aslant A Brook, That Shows His Hoar Leaves In The Glassy Stream; There With Fantastic Garlands Did She Come Of Crow-flowers, Nettles, Daisies, And Long Purples That Liberal Shepherds Give A Grosser Name, But Our Cold Maids Do Dead Men's Fingers Call Them: There, On The Pendent Boughs Her Coronet Weeds Clambering To Hang, An Envious Sliver Broke; When Down Her Weedy Trophies And Herself Fell In The Weeping Brook.

But Pearls Are Fair; And The Old Saying Is: Black Men Are Pearls In Beauteous Ladies' Eyes.

I Shall Laugh Myself To Death At This Puppy-headed Monster!

A Heaven On Earth I Have Won By Wooing Thee.

Ignorance Is The Curse Of God; Knowledge Is The Wing Wherewith We Fly To Heaven.