Ye Moon And Stars, Bear Witness To

None Would Live Past Years Again, Yet All Hope Pleasure In What Yet Remain; And, From The Dregs Of Life, Think To Receive, What The First Sprightly Running Could Not Give.

Uncertain Whose The Narrowest Span,--the Clown Unread, Or Half-read Gentleman.

The Soft Complaining Flute, In Dying Notes, Discovers The Woes Of Hopeless Lovers.

How Happy The Lover, How Easy His Chain, How Pleasing His Pain, How Sweet To Discover He Sighs Not In Vain.

Better One Suffer Than A Nation Grieve.