Ill News Is Wing'd With Fate, And

Fortune Confounds The Wise, And When They Least Expect It Turns The Dice.

My Heart's So Full Of Joy, That I Shall Do Some Wild Extravagance Of Love In Public; And The Foolish World, Which Knows Not Tenderness, Will Think Me Mad.

For Mysterious Things Of Faith, Rely On The Proponent, Heaven's Authority.

Time And Death Shall Depart And Say In Flying Love Has Found Out A Way To Live, By Dying.

Fool That I Was, Upon My Eagle's Wings I Bore This Wren, Till I Was Tired With Soaring, And Now He Mounts Above Me.