Love Is . . . A Madness

The Most Peerless Piece Of Earth, I Think, That E' Er The Sun Shone Bright On.

Suffer Love; A Good Epithet! I Do Suffer Love, Indeed, For I Love Thee Against My Will.

My Falcon Now Is Sharp And Passing Empty, And Till She Stoop She Must Not Be Full-gorged, For Then She Never Looks Upon Her Lure.

The Best Is Yet To Come.

Read O'er This And After, This, And Then To Breakfast With What Appetite You Have.