Ev'n Wit's A Burthen, When It Talks

My Whole Life Has Been A Golden Dream Of Love And Friendship.

How Happy The Lover, How Easy His Chain, How Pleasing His Pain, How Sweet To Discover He Sighs Not In Vain.

Griefs Assured Are Felt Before They Come.

So Poetry, Which Is In Oxford Made An Art, In London Only Is A Trade.

The Glorious Lamp Of Heaven, The Radiant Sun, Is Nature's Eye.