There Is Little Choice In A Barrel

Such Is My Love, To Thee I So Belong, That For Thy Right Myself Will Bear All Wrong.

Great Floods Have Flown From Simple Sources.

Time Is Like A Fashionable Host That Slightly Shakes His Parting Guest By The Hand, And With His Arm Outstretch'd, As He Would Fly, Grasps In The Comer.

Proper Deformity Shows Not In The Fiend So Horrid As In Woman.

Look, What Envious Streaks Do Lace The Severing Clouds In Yonder East! Night's Candles Are Burnt Out, And Jocund Day Stands Tip-toe On The Misty Mountain-tops.