He Loves But Lightly Who

Rarely Do Great Beauty And Great Virtue Dwell Together.

Books Never Pall On Me. They Discourse With Us, They Take Counsel With Us, And Are United To Us By A Certain Living Chatty Familiarity. And Not Only Does Each Book Inspire The Sense That It Belongs To Its Readers, But It Also Suggests The Name Of Others, And One Begets The Desire Of The Other.

When The Poet Died His Cat Was Put To Death And Mummified.

The Greater I Am, The Greater Shall Be My Efforts.

Go, Grieving Rimes Of Mine, To That Hard Stone Whereunder Lies My Darling, Lies My Dear, And Cry To Her To Speak From Heaven's Sphere.