Light Sufferings Give Us Leisure To Complain.

Our Souls Sit Close And Silently Within, And Their Own Web From Their Own Entrails Spin; And When Eyes Meet Far Off, Our Sense Is Such, That, Spider-like, We Feel The Tenderest Touch.

He Who Would Pry Behind The Scenes Oft Sees A Counterfeit.

Our Vows Are Heard Betimes! And Heaven Takes Care To Grant, Before We Can Conclude The Prayer: Preventing Angels Met It Half The Way, And Sent Us Back To Praise, Who Came To Pray.

If Passion Rules, How Weak Does Reason Prove!

All Things Are Subject To Decay And When Fate Summons, Monarchs Must Obey.