Can Love Be Controll'd By Advice?

Is There No Hope? The Sick Man Said, The Silent Doctor Shook His Head, And Took His Leave With Signs Of Sorrow, Despairing Of His Fee To-morrow.

Fill It Up. I Take As Large Draughts Of Liquor As I Did Of Love. I Hate A Flincher In Either.

Here Shock, The Pride Of All His Kind, Is Laid, Who Fawned Like Man, But Ne'er Like Man Betrayed.

How Happy Could I Be With Either, Were T'other Dear Charmer Away!

Thus Shadow Owes Its Birth To Light.