A Good Principle Not Rightly Understood May

The Love-lorn Nightingale Nightly To Thee Her Sad Song Mourneth Well.

Wherefore Did Nature Pour Her Bounties Forth With Such A Full And Unwithdrawing Hand, Covering The Earth With Odours, Fruits, Flocks, Thronging The Seas With Spawn Innumerable, But All To Please And Sate The Curious Taste?

God Is Thy Law, Thou Mine: To Know No More Is Woman's Happiest Knowledge And Her Praise. With Thee Conversing I Forget All Time.

Loneliness Is The First Thing Which God's Eye Named Not Good.

O Fleeting Joys Of Paradise, Dear Bought With Lasting Woes!