Like Will To Like, Each Creature Loves

Tears Are The Noble Language Of The Eye.

A Careless Shoe String, In Whose Tie I See A Wilde Civility.

The Glorious Lamp Of Heaven, The Sun.

Bid Me To Live, And I Will Live Thy Protestant To Be: Or Bid Me Love, And I Will Give A Loving Heart To Thee, A Heart As Soft, A Heart As Kind, A Heart As Sound And Free As In The Whole World Thou Canst Find, That Heart I'll Give To Thee.

The Body Is The Soul's Poor House Or Home, Whose Ribs The Laths Are And Whose Flesh The Loam.