Ay Me! Sad Hours Seem Long.

For What Good Turn? Messenger: For The Best Turn Of The Bed.

What's Past And What's To Come Is Strew'd With Husks And Formless Ruin Of Oblivion.

Were It Good To Set The Exact Wealth Of All Our States All At One Cast? To Set So Rich A Main On The Nice Hazard Of One Doubtful Hour? It Were Not Good.

Our Purses Shall Be Proud, Our Garments Poor; For 'tis The Mind That Makes The Body Rich

Now Entertain Conjecture Of A Time When Creeping Murmur And The Poring Dark Fills The Wide Vessel Of The Universe.