Nursing Her Wrath To Keep It Warm.--robert

Not The Bee Upon The Blossom, In The Pride O' Sunny Noon; Not The Little Sporting Fairy, All Beneath The Simmer Moon; Not The Poet, In The Moment Fancy Lightens In His E'e, Kens The Pleasure, Feels The Rapture, That Thy Presence Gi'es To Me.

My Son, These Maxims Make A Rule An Lump Them Ay Thegither: The Rigid Righteous Is A Fool, The Rigid Wise Anither.

Who Made The Heart, 'tis He Alone Decidedly Can Try Us

Ilk Cowslip Cup Shall Kep A Tear.

Even Every Ray Of Hope Destroyed And Not A Wish To Gild The Gloom.