Your Wisdom Is Consum'd In Confidence. Do

The Eye Of Man Hath Not Heard, The Ear Of Man Hath Not Seen, Man's Hand Is Not Able To Taste, His Tongue To Conceive, Nor His Heart To Report, What My Dream Was.

They Are In The Very Wrath Of Love, And They Will Go Together. Clubs Cannot Part Them

Winter's Not Gone Yet, If The Wild Geese Fly That Way.

But Let The Frame Of Things Disjoint, Both The Worlds Suffer, Ere We Will Eat Our Meal In Fear, And Sleep In The Affliction Of These Terrible Dreams That Shake Us Nightly.

Memory, The Warder Of The Brain.