To Think But Nobly Of My Grandmother:

These Words Are Razors To My Wounded Heart.

Stars, Hide Your Fires; Let Not Light See My Black And Deep Desires.

Sleep Knits Up The Raveled Sleeve Of Care.

Being Of No Power To Make His Wishes Good: His Promises Fly So Beyond His State That What He Speaks Is All In Debt; He Owes For Every Word.

Old Time The Clock-setter.