Commend Me To Sterling Honesty Though Clad

One Crowded Hour Of Glorious Life Is Worth An Age Without A Name

A Glass Of Good Wine Is A Gracious Creature, And Reconciles Poor Mortality To Itself And That Is What Few Things Can Do.

Love, To Her Ear, Was But A Name, Combin'd With Vanity And Shame; Her Hopes, Her Fears, Her Joys, Were All Bounded Within The Cloister Wall.

Is Death The Last Sleep? No, It Is The Last And Final Awakening.

Then Hush Thee, My Darling, Take Rest While You May, For Strife Comes With Manhood, And Waking With Day.