O The World Is But

To Mourn A Mischief That Is Past And Gone Is The Next Way To Draw New Mischief On.

What Light Through Yonder Window Breaks?

The Heart Hath Treble Wrong When It Is Barr'd The Aidance Of The Tongue.

Fairies, Black, Grey, Green, And White, You Moonshine Revellers, And Shades Of Night, You Orphan Heirs Of Fixed Destiny, Attend Your Office And Your Quality.

The Why Is Plain As Way To Parish Church: He That A Fool Doth Very Wisely Hit Doth Very Foolishly, Although He Smart, Not To Seem Senseless Of The Bob; If Not, The Wise Man's Folly Is Anatomiz'd Even By The Squand'ring Glances Of The Fool.