Life... Is A Paradise To What We

Hang There Like Fruit, My Soul, Till The Tree Die!

Sweet Recreation Barred, What Doth Ensue But Moody And Dull Melancholy, Kinsman To Grim And Comfortless Despair.

I Will Make Thee Think Thy Swan A Crow.

Friendship's Full Of Dregs.

If You Spend Word For Word With Me, I Shall Make Your Wit Bankrupt.