Good Wine Needs No Bush.

The Latter End Of A Fray, And The Beginning Of A Feast, Fits A Dull Fighter, And A Keen Guest.

I Love You More Than Word Can Wield The Matter, Dearer Than Eye-sight, Space And Liberty

If The Masses Can Love Without Knowing Why, They Also Hate Without Much Foundation.

And When I Am Forgotten, As I Shall Be, And Asleep In Dull Cold Marble, Where No Mention Of Me Must Be Heard Of, Say, I Taught Thee.

In The Night, Imagining Some Fear, How Easy Is A Bush Supposed A Bear!