Wilt Thou Whip Thine Own Faults In

A Loud Laugh Bespeaks A Vacant Mind!

If There Were A Sympathy In Choice, War, Death, Or Sickness, Did Lay Siege To It, Making It Momentary As A Sound, Swift As A Shadow, Short As Any Dream, Brief As The Lightning In The Collied Night That, In A Spleen, Unfolds Both Heaven And Earth, And Ere A Man Hath Power To Say 'behold!' The Jaws Of Darkness Do Devour It Up; So Quick Bright Things Come To Confusion.

Her Virtues, Graced With External Gifts, Do Breed Love's Settled Passions In My Heart; And Like As Rigour Of Tempestuous Gusts Provokes The Mightiest Hulk Against The Tide, So Am I Driven By Breath Of Her Renown Either To Suffer Shipwreck Or Arrive Where I May Have Fruition Of Her Love.

So Every Bondman In His Own Hand Bears The Power To Cancel His Captivity.

To Be In Love, Where Scorn Is Bought With Groans; Coy Looks, With Heart-sore Sighs; One Fading Moment's Mirth