The Attempt And Not The Deed Confounds

O Mischief, Thou Art Swift To Enter In The Thoughts Of Desperate Men!

Hung Be The Heavens With Black! Yield, Day, To Night!

You Draw Me, You Hard-hearted Adamant; But Yet You Draw Not Iron, For My Heart Is True As Steel: Leave You Your Power To Draw, And I Shall Have No Power To Follow You.

So Wise So Young, They Say, Do Never Live Long.

To Think But Nobly Of My Grandmother: Good Wombs Have Borne Bad Sons.