Fair, Kind, And True, Have Often Lived

How Well He's Read, To Reason Against Reading!

Love Is Merely A Madness; And, I Tell You, Deserves As Well A Dark House And A Whip As Madmen Do; And The Reason Why They Are Not So Punish'd And Cured Is That The Lunacy Is So Ordinary That The Whippers Are In Love Too.

For In That Sleep Of Death What Dreams May Come.

Direct Not Him Whose Way Himself Will Choose; 'tis Breath Not Lack'st, And That Breath Wilt Thou Lose.

Confusion Now Hath Made His Masterpiece.