Lady, You Know No Rules Of Charity,

Hang Those That Talk Of Fear.

Yet Do I Fear Thy Nature; It Is Too Full O' The Milk Of Human Kindness.

Is She Not Passing Fair?

How Hard It Is To Hide The Sparks Of Nature!

She Marking Them Begins A Wailing Note And Sings Extemporally A Woeful Ditty How Love Makes Young Men Thrall And Old Men Dote How Love Is Wise In Folly, Foolish-witty Her Heavy Anthem Still Concludes In Woe, And Still The Choir Of Echoes Answer So.