The Timely Dew Of Sleep.

Thou Canst Not Touch The Freedom Of My Mind.

With Cowslips Wan That Hang The Pensive Head, And Every Flower That Sad Embroidery Wears.

Dark With Excessive Bright.

Smiles From Reason Flow, To Brute Deny'd, And Are Of Love The Food.

Mammon, The Least Erected Spirit That Fell >from Heaven; For Ev'n In Heaven His Looks And Thoughts Were Always Downward Bent, Admiring More The Riches Of Heaven's Pavement, Trodden Gold, Than Aught Divine Or Holy Else Enjoy'd In Vision Beatific.