Crime Generally Punishes Itself.

The Hawthorn Bush, With Seats Beneath The Shade, For Talking Age And Whispering Lovers Made.

Embosom'd In The Deep Where Holland Lies. Methinks Her Patient Sons Before Me Stand, Where The Broad Ocean Leans Against The Land.

Well Had The Boding Tremblers Learned To Trace The Day's Disasters In His Morning Face.

By Every Remove I Only Drag A Greater Length Of Chain.

As For Disappointing Them I Should Not So Much Mind; But I Can't Abide To Disappoint Myself.