I Fled, And Cry'd Out, Death; Hell

License They Mean When They Cry Liberty; For Who Loves That, Must First Be Wise And Good.

With Eyes Of Conjugal Attraction Unreprov'd. Imparadised In One Another's Arms. With Thee Conversing I Forget All Time. And Feel That I Am Happier Than I Know.

Reason Is Also Choice.

Time Is The Subtle Thief Of Youth.

Zeal And Duty Are Not Slow But On Occasion's Forelock Watchful Wait.