Quips And Cranks And Wanton Wiles, Nods

A Shout That Tore Hell's Concave, And Beyond / Frightened The Reign Of Chaos And Old Night.

Now Morn, Her Rosy Steps In Th' Eastern Clime Advancing, Sow'd The Earth With Orient Pearl, When Adam Wak'd, So Custom'd; For His Sleep Was Aery Light, From Pure Digestion Bred.

Till Old Experience Do Attain To Something Like Prophetic Strain.

A Crown Golden In Show, Is But A Wreath Of Thorns, Bring Dangers, Troubles, Cares, And Sleepless Nights To Him Who Wears The Regal Diadem

Biochemically, Love Is Just Like Eating Large Amounts Of Chocolate.