Contentions Fierce, Ardent, And Dire, Spring From

The Heart-sick Faintness Of The Hope Delayed!

Necessity--thou Best Of Peacemakers, As Well As Surest Prompter Of Invention.

Call It Not Vain: They Do Not Err Who Say That When The Poet Dies Mute Nature Mourns Her Worshipper, And Celebrates His Obsequies.

I Will But Confess The Sins Of My Green Cloak To My Grey Friar's Frock, And All Shall Be Well Again.

And Better Had They Ne'er Been Born, Who Read To Doubt, Or Read To Scorn.