The Flower's Are Gone When The Fruits

Ye Gods, Annihilate But Space And Time, And Make Two Lovers Happy.

Placed On This Isthmus Of A Middle State, A Being Darkly Wise And Rudely Great... He Hangs Between; In Doubt To Act Or Rest; In Doubt To Deem Himself A God, Or Beast; In Doubt His Mind Or Body To Prefer; Born To Die, And Reasoning But To Err.

Pleas'd Look Forward, Pleas'd To Look Behind,and Count Each Birthday With A Grateful Mind.

I Am Satisfied To Trifle Away My Time, Rather Than Let It Stick By Me.

Though Triumphs Were To Generals Only Due, Crowns Were Reserved To Grace The Soldiers Too.