The Brain May Devise Laws For The

My Desolation Does Begin To Make A Better Life.

The Seasons Alter: Hoary-headed Frosts Fall In The Fresh Lap Of The Crimson Rose, And On Old Hiems' Thin And Icy Crown An Odorous Chaplet Of Sweet Summer Buds Is, As In Mockery, Set. The Spring, The Summer, The Childing Autumn, Angry Winter, Change Their Wonted Liveries, And The Mazed World, By Their Increase, Now Knows Not Which Is Which.

Promising Is The Very Air O' The Time; It Opens The Eyes Of Expectation.

Bell, Book And Candle Shall Not Drive Me Back, When Gold And Silver Becks Me To Come On.

O, What A Goodly Outside Falsehood Hath!