I Wonder That You Will Still Be

Ideas Are The Very Coinage Of Your Brain.

And In The Morn And Liquid Dew Of Youth, Contagious Blastments Are Are Most Imminent.

That, Sir, Which Serves And Seeks For Gain, And Follows But For Form, Will Pack, When It Begins To Rain, And Leave Thee In A Storm.

When Remedies Are Past, The Griefs Are Ended By Seeing The Worst, Which Late On Hopes Depended. To Mourn A Mischief That Is Past And Gone Is The Next Way To Draw New Mischief On. What Cannot Be Preserved When Fortune Takes, Patience Her Injury A Mockery Makes. The Robb'd That Smiles Steals Something For The Thief; He Robs Himself That Spends A Bootless Grief.

I Despised My Arrival On This Earth And I Despise My Departure; It Is A Tragedy.