I Never Knew Any Man In My

How Loved, How Honored Once, Avails Thee Not, To Whom Related, Or By Whom Begot A Heap Of Dust Alone Remains Of Thee 'tis All Thou Art, And All The Proud Shall Be!

Expression Is The Dress Of Thought.

Men Would Be Angels, Angels Would Be Gods.

To Dazzle Let The Vain Design, To Raise The Thought And Touch The Heart, Be Thine!

Let Opening Roses Knotted Oaks Adorn, And Liquid Amber Drop From Every Thorn.