The Love-lorn Nightingale Nightly To Thee Her

This Horror Will Grow Mild, This Darkness Light.

It Is Chastity, My Brother. She That Has That Is Clad In Complete Steel.

Nor Jealousy Was Understood, The Injur'd Lover's Hell.

So Little Knows Any, But God Alone, But Perverts Best Things To Worst Abuse, Or To Their Meanest Use.

Where Peace And Rest Can Never Dwell, Hope Never Comes, That Comes To All.