Of All The Commentaries On The Scriptures,

The Day Breaks Not, It Is My Heart.

To Rage, To Lust, To Write To, To Commend, All Is The Purlieu Of The God Of Love.

To Be No Part Of Any Body, Is To Be Nothing.

To Roam Giddily, And Be Everywhere But At Home, Such Freedom Doth A Banishment Become.

That Soul That Can Reflect Upon Itself, Consider Itself, Is More Than So.