Love's Best Habit Is A Soothing Tongue

The Error Of Our Eye Directs Our Mind. What Error Leads Must Err.

Make Me A Willow Cabin At Your Gate, And Call Upon My Soul Within The House; Write Loyal Cantons Of Contemned Love And Sing Them Loud Even In The Dead Of Night.

Ay; Beauty's Princely Majesty Is Such, Confounds The Tongue And Makes The Senses Rough.

O No, Thy Love Though Much, Is Not So Great, It Is My Love That Keeps Mine Eye Awake, Mine Own True Love That Doth My Rest Defeat, To Play The Watchman Ever For Thy Sake. For Thee Watch I, Whilst Thou Dost Wake Elsewhere, From Me Far Off, With Others All Too Near.

If There Be No Great Love In The Beginning, Yet Heaven May Decrease It Upon Better Acquaintance, When We Are Married And Have More Occasion To Know One Another: I Hope, Upon Familiarity Will Grow More Contempt.