Into This Wild Abyss, The

Where Peace And Rest Can Never Dwell, Hope Never Comes, That Comes To All.

Such Sober Certainty Of Waking Bliss.

Fame Is The Spur That The Clear Spirit Doth Raise. That Last Infirmity Of Noble Mind. To Scorn Delights, And Live Laborious Days.

With Thee Conversing I Forget All Time.

So Little Knows Any, But God Alone, But Perverts Best Things To Worst Abuse, Or To Their Meanest Use.