To Be Rhymed To Death As Is

With How Sad Steps, O Moon, Thou Climb'st The Skies! How Silently, And With How Wan A Face!

Come Sleep! Oh Sleep, The Certain Knot Of Peace, The Baiting-place Of Wit, The Balm Of Woe, The Poor Man's Wealth, The Prisoner's Release, The Indifferent Judge Between The High And Low.

There Is Nothing So Great That I Fear To Do It For My Friend; Nothing So Small That I Will Disdain To Do It For Him.

The Day Seems Long, But Night Is Odious; No Sleep, But Dreams; No Dreams But Visions Strange.

Fear Is The Underminer Of All Determinations; And Necessity, The Victorious Rebel Of All Laws.