The Seasons Change Their Manners, As The

Oh, Thou Did'st Then Ne'er Love So Heartily. If Thou Rememb'rest Not The Slightest Folly That Ever Love Did Make Thee Run Inot, Thou Has Not Loved. Of If Thou Has't Not Sat As I Do Now, Wearying They Hearer In Thy Mistress's Praise, Thou Has Not Loved. Of If Thou Hast Not Broke From Company Abruptly, As My Passion Now Makes Me, Thou Has Not Loved. (silvius)

So Full Of Shapes Is Fancy

There Is Special Providence In The Fall Of A Sparrow.

The Big Round Tears Cours'd One Another Down His Innocent Nose, In Piteous Chase.

The Love That Follows Us Sometime Is Our Trouble, Which Still We Thank As Love.