Nature Her Custom Holds, Let Shame Say

If The Masses Can Love Without Knowing Why, They Also Hate Without Much Foundation.

I That Please Some, Try All, Both Joy And Terror Of Good And Bad, That Makes And Unfolds Error.

We Go To Gain A Little Patch Of Ground That Hath In It No Profit But The Name.

To You Your Father Should Be As A God.

Her Passions Are Made Of Nothing But The Finest Part Of Pure Love