Fair Youth, I Would I Could Make

The Happiest Youth, Viewing His Progress Through, What Perils Past, What Crosses To Ensue, Would Shut The Book, And Sit Him Down And Die.

And Yet,to Say The Truth, Reason And Love Keep Little Company Together Nowadays.

Where Hateful Death Put On His Ugliest Mask.

There's Nothing Ill Can Dwell In Such A Temple. If The Ill Spirit Have So Fair A House, Good Things Will Strive To Dwell With't

In Sweet Music Is Such Art: Killing Care And Grief Of Heart Fall Asleep, Or Hearing, Die.