...too Much Sadness Hath Congealed Your Blood,and

Minutes, Hours, Days, Months, And Years, Pass'd Over To The End They Were Created, Would Bring White Hairs Unto A Quiet Grave. Ah, What A Life Were This!

Some Smack Of Age In You, Some Relish Of The Saltness Of Time.

Wish Chastely, And Love Dearly.

I Am Giddy, Expectation Whirls Me Round. The Imaginary Relish Is So Sweet That It Enchants My Sense.

To Weep Is To Make Less The Depth Of Grief.