Sweet Intercourse Of Looks And Smiles; For

That Power Which Erring Men Call Chance.

Seasoned Life Of Man Preserved And Stored Up In Books.

But Hail Thou Goddess Sage And Holy, Hail, Divinest Melancholy, Whose Saintly Visage Is Too Bright To Hit The Sense Of Human Sight, And Therefore To Our Weaker View O'erlaid With Black, Staid Wisdom's Hue.

Ladies, Whose Bright Eyes Rain Influence, And Judge The Prize.

Solitude Is Sometimes The Best Society.