Bloody Instructions, Which, Being Taught, Return To

Take Pains. Be Perfect.

The Clock Upbraids Me With The Waste Of Time.

No Evil Lost Is Wailed When It Is Gone.

Grief Fills The Room Up Of My Absent Child, Lies In His Bed, Walks Up And Down With Me, Puts On His Pretty Look, Repeats His Words, Remembers Me Of His Gracious Parts, Stuffs Out His Vacant Garments With His Form

But Here's The Joy: My Friend And I Are One, Sweet Flattery!