You Are Not Wood, You Are Not

My Heart Laments That Virtue Cannot Live Out Of The Teeth Of Emulation.

It Easeth Some, Though None It Ever Cured, To Think Their Dolour Others Have Endured.

Nimble Thought Can Jump Both Sea And Land.

The Thing Of Courage As Rous'd With Rage Doth Sympathise, And, With An Accent Tun'd In Self-same Key, Retorts To Chiding Fortune.

Love, Which Teacheth Me That Thou And I Am One