When The Poet Died His Cat Was

Hitherto Your Eyes Have Been Darkened And You Have Looked Too Much, Yes, Far Too Much, Upon The Things Of Earth. If These So Much Delight You What Shall Be Your Rapture When You Lift Your Gaze To Things Eternal!

Books Have Led Some To Learning And Others To Madness.

He Loves But Lightly Who His Love Can Tell.

To Begin With Myself, Then, The Utterances Of Men Concerning Me Will Differ Widely, Since In Passing Judgment Almost Every One Is Influenced Not So Much By Truth As By Preference, And Good And Evil Report Alike Know No Bounds.

Whyle I Was Abowte To Chaunge Myn Olde Lyff-- What Sorowe I Suffred, Dyseese, Angre And Stryff, Cracchynge Myn Here, My Chekys All Totare, Wrythynge My Fyngres For Angwysshe And Care, Watrynge The Erthe With My Byttre Salte Teres That The Crye Of My Syghes Ascended To Goddys Eres, My Knees With Myn Handys Grasped Togedyre Soore, And Yitt I Stode The Same Man I Was Afore Tyl A Depe Profounde Remembraunce Att The Laste Hadd All My Wrecchednesse Afore Myn Eyn Caste