Don't Cry Upon You Losses Don't Mesure

Heaven But The Vision Of Fulfilled Desire, And Hell The Shadow From A Soul On Fire.

Hearts Are Like Tapers, Which At Beauteous Eyes Kindle A Flame Of Love That Never Dies; And Beauty Is A Flame, Where Hearts, Like Moths, Offer Themselves A Burning Sacrifice.

You Know How Little While We Have To Stay, And, Once Departed, May Return No More.

The Wine-cup Is The Little Silver Well, Where Truth, If Truth There Be, Doth Dwell.

You Know, My Friends, With What A Brave Carouse I Made A Second Marriage In My House; Favored Old Barren Reason From My Bed, And Took The Daughter Of The Vine To Spouse.