These Flowers Are Like The Pleasures Of

Love Is A Wonderful, Terrible Thing

Roses Have Thorns, And Silver Fountains Mud; Clouds And Eclipses Stain Both Moon And Sun, And Loathsome Canker Lies In Sweetest Bud. All Men Make Faults.

In The Night, Imagining Some Fear, How Easy Is A Bush Supposed A Bear!

With Love's Light Wings Did I O'er-perch These Walls, For Stony Limits Cannot Hold Love Out

Bondage Is Hoarse, And May Not Speak Aloud.