Swift As Shadow, Short As Any Dream

How Ill White Hairs Become A Fool And Jester!

O! For A Muse Of Fire, That Would Ascend The Brightest Heaven Of Invention.

So Far Be Distant; And Good Night, Sweet Friend: Thy Love Ne'er Alter, Till They Sweet Life End

A Great Perturbation In Nature, To Receive At Once The Benefit Of Sleep And Do The Effects Of Watching!

No, No, I Am But Shadow Of Myself: You Are Deceived, My Substance Is Not Here.