They Told Me I Was Everything. 'tis

These Blessed Candles Of The Night.

Yet, Do Thy Worst, Old Time; Despite Thy Wrong, My Love Shall In My Verse Ever Live Young.

Moderate Lamentation Is The Right Of The Dead, Excessive Grief The Enemy To The Living.

O Excellent! I Love Long Life Better Than Figs.

Every Offense Is Not A Hate At First.