Placed On This Isthmus Of A Middle

Not Grace, Or Zeal, Love Only Was My Call, And If I Lose Thy Love, I Lose My All.

Offend Her, And She Knows Not To Forgive; Oblige Her, And She'll Hate You While You Live.

Is Not Absence Death To Those Who Love?

Pleasures Are Ever In Our Hands Or Eyes; And When In Act They Cease, In Prospect Rise.

A Brave Man Struggling In The Storms Of Fate, And Greatly Falling With A Falling State.