Love Is Too Young To Know What

For Thou Hast Given Me In This Beauteous Face A World Of Earthly Blessings To My Soul, If Sympathy Of Love Unite Our Thoughts.

I Have Unclasp'd To Thee The Book Even Of My Secret Soul.

Though Patience Be A Tired Mare, Yet She Will Plod.

I Would That I Were Low Laid In My Grave. I Am Not Worth This Coil That's Made For Me.

A Jest's Prosperity Lies In The Ear Of Him That Hears It, Never In The Tongue Of Him That Makes It.