For Love, Thou Know'st, Is Full Of

All Love's Pleasure Shall Not Match Its Woe.

O' Thinkest Thou We Shall Ever Meet Again? I Doubt It Not; And All These Woes Shall Serve For Sweet Discourses In Our Times To Come.

Un-thread The Rude Eye Of Rebellion, And Welcome Home Again Discarded Faith.

You Great Benefactors, Sprinkle Our Society With Thankfulness. For Your Own Gifts, Make Yourselves Praised.

They Told Me I Was Everything. 'tis A Lie, I Am Not Ague-proof.