To Take Up Half On Trust, And

Thou Tyrant, Tyrant Jealousy, Thou Tyrant Of The Mind!

Reason Is A Crutch For Age, But Youth Is Strong Enough To Walk Alone.

An Hour Will Come, With Pleasure To Relate Your Sorrows Past, As Benefits Of Fate.

With Odorous Oil Thy Head And Hair Are Sleek; And Then Thou Kemb'st The Tuzzes On Thy Cheek: Of These, My Barbers Take A Costly Care.

Ye Moon And Stars, Bear Witness To The Truth.