Ye Moon And Stars, Bear Witness To

Our Souls Sit Close And Silently Within, And Their Own Web From Their Own Entrails Spin; And When Eyes Meet Far Off, Our Sense Is Such, That, Spider-like, We Feel The Tenderest Touch.

All Objects Lose By Too Familiar A View.

From Plots And Treasons Heaven Preserve My Years, But Save Me Most From My Petitioners. Unsatiate As The Barren Womb Or Grave; God Cannot Grant So Much As They Can Crave.

She, Though In Full-blown Flower Of Glorious Beauty, Grows Cold Even In The Summer Of Her Age.

Pride - Lord Of Human Kind