The Work Under Our Labour Grows, Luxurious

Good, The More Communicated, More Abundant Grows.

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

Thy Actions To Thy Words Accord; Thy Words To Thy Large Heart Give Utterance Due; Thy Heart; Contains Of Good, Wise, Just, The Perfect Shape.

In Naked Beauty More Adorn'd, More Lovely Than Pandora.

He Who Would Not Be Frustrate Of His Hope To Write Well Hereafter In Laudable Things Ought Himself To Be A True Poem.