Ay, But Hearken, Sir; Though The Chameleon

Let's All Cry Peace, Freedom, And Liberty!

Is This The Generation Of Love? Hot Blood, Hot Thoughts And Hot Deeds? Why, They Are Vipers. Is Love A Generation Of Vipers?

Now 'tis Spring, And Weeds Are Shallow-rooted; Suffer Them Now And They'll O'ergrow The Garden.

We Cannot Fight For Love, As Men May Do; We Shou'd Be Woo'd, And Were Not Made To Woo

Thus Sometimes Hath The Brightest Day A Cloud; And After Summer Evermore Succeeds Barren Winter, With His Wrathful Nipping Cold: So Cares And Joys Abound, As Seasons Fleet.