Grief Hallows Hearts, Even While

Could I Love Less, I Should Be Happier Now.

Youth Might Be Wise; We Suffer Less From Pains Than Pleasures.

Surely The Stars Are Images Of Love.

Corruption Springs From Light: 'tis One Same Power Creates, Preserves, Destroys; Matter Whereon It Works, On E'er Self-transmutative Form, Common To Now The Living, Now The Dead.

Ah, Nothing Comes To Us Too Soon But Sorrow.