The Ruins Of Time Build Mansions In

I Cry, Love! Love! Love! Happy Happy Love! Free As The Mountain Wind!

Excessive Sorrow Laughs. Excessive Joy Weeps.

And Is He Honest Who Resists His Genius Or Conscience Only For The Sake Of Present Ease Or Gratification

Love Seeketh Not Itself To Please, Nor For Itself Hath Any Care, But For Another Gives Its Ease, And Builds A Heaven In Hell's Despair.

How Have You Left The Ancient Love That Bards Of Old Enjoyed In You! The Languid Strings Do Scarcely Move! The Sound Is Forced, The Notes Are Few!