What Is Light, If Sylvia Be Not

If Thou Engrossest All The Griefs Are Thine, Thou Robb'st Me Of A Moiety.

Fairies, Black, Grey, Green, And White, You Moonshine Revellers, And Shades Of Night, You Orphan Heirs Of Fixed Destiny, Attend Your Office And Your Quality.

O, What Men Dare Do! What Men May Do! What Men Daily Do, Not Knowing What They Do.

Now 'tis Spring, And Weeds Are Shallow-rooted; Suffer Them Now And They'll O'ergrow The Garden.

So Shalt Thou Feed On Death, That Feeds On Men.