. . . Change Is The Nursery

For Love All Love Of Other Sights Controls And Makes One Little Room An Everywhere

Without Outward Declarations, Who Can Conclude An Inward Love?

Be Thine Own Palace, Or The World's Thy Jail.

From Rest And Sleep, Which But Thy Pictures Be, Much Pleasure, Then From Thee Much More, Must Flow, And Soonest Our Best Men With Thee Do Go, Rest Of Their Bones, And Soul's Delivery.

I Find No Abhorring In My Appetite.