Let There Be Gall Enough In Thy

. . . Nothing In His Life Became Him Like The Leaving It; He Died As One That Had Been Studied In His Death To Throw Away The Dearest Thing He Owed, As 'twere A Careless Trifle.

The Poet's Eye, In A Fine Frenzy Rolling, Doth Glance From Heaven To Earth, From Earth To Heaven.

And Yet, By Heaven, I Think My Love As Rare As Any She Belied With False Compare.

O King, Believe Not This Hard-hearted Man!

The Moon Shines Bright. In Such A Night As This. When The Sweet Wind Did Gently Kiss The Trees And They Did Make No Noise, In Such A Night.