Blasphemous Words Betray The Vain Foolishness Of

If You Neglect Your Work, You Will Dislike It; If You Do It Well, You Will Enjoy It

But Words Came Halting Forth, Wanting Invention's Stay; Invention, Nature's Child, Fled Stepdame Study's Blows; And Others' Feet Still Seemed But Strangers In My Way. Thus, Great With Child To Speak, And Helpless In My Throes, Biting My Truant Pen, Beating Myself For Spite: "fool," Said My Muse To Me, "look In Thy Heart, And Write.

Misery And Misfortune Is All One; And Of Misfortune Fortune Hath Only The Gift.

There Is Nothing Evil But What Is Within Us; The Rest Is Either Natural Or Accidental.

Love, One Time, Layeth Burdens; Another Time, Giveth Wings.