Sweet Love! Sweet Lines! Sweet Life! Here

O Love, Be Moderate, Allay Thy Ecstasy, In Measure Rain Thy Joy, Scant This Excess!

I Do Not Know What Kind Of My Obedience I Should Tender. More Than My All Is Nothing; Nor My Prayers Are Not Words Holy Hallowed, Nor My Wishes More Worth Than Empty Vanities; Yet Prayers And Wishes Are All I Can Return.

My Will Enkindled By Mine Eyes And Ears, Two Traded Pilots 'twixt The Dangerous Shores Of Will And Judgment.

I Doubt Not Then But Innocence Shall Makefalse Accusation Blush, And Tyrannytremble At Patience.

I Stalk About Her Door, Like A Strange Soul Upon The Stygian Banks Staying For Waftage.