Your Tale, Sir, Would Cure Deafness.

Blind Is His Love, And Best Befits The Dark.

Oft Expectation Fails, And Most Oft There Where Most It Promises; And Oft It Hits Where Hope Is Coldest, And Despair Most Fits.

O Heaven! That One Might Read The Book Of Fate, And See The Revolution Of The Times.

Your Bait Of Falsehood Takes This Carp Of Truth.

What Fates Impose, That Men Must Needs Abide; It Boots Not To Resist Both Wind And Tide.