Thus Hath The Candle Sing'd The Moth.

Adversity's Sweet Milk, Philosophy.

Come, And Take Choice Of All My Library, And So Beguile Thy Sorrow.

O, Train Me Not, Sweet Mermaid, With Thy Note, To Drown Me In Thy Sister’s Flood Of Tears.

Sin Will Pluck On Sin.

Art Thou Not, Fatal Vision, Sensible To Feelings As To Sight?