The First Is The Law, The Last

Such Subtle Covenants Shall Be Made,till Peace It Self Is War In Masquerade.

My Heart's So Full Of Joy, That I Shall Do Some Wild Extravagance Of Love In Public; And The Foolish World, Which Knows Not Tenderness, Will Think Me Mad.

An Horrible Stillness First Invades Our Ear, And In That Silence We The Tempest Fear.

But 'tis The Talent Of Our English Nation, Still To Be Plotting Some New Reformation.

Interest Makes All Seem Reason That Leads To It.