Sleep, That Sometimes Shuts Up

Women Speak Two Languages - One Of Which Is Verbal.

Words Are Grown So False, I Am Loath To Prove Reason With Them.

I Have Ventured, Like Little Wanton Boys That Swim On Bladders, This Many Summers In A Sea Of Glory, But Far Beyond My Depth. My High-blown Pride At Length Broke Under Me, And Now Has Left Me, Weary And Old With Service, To The Mercy Of A Rude Stream That Must For Ever Hide Me.

The Iron Tongue Of Midnight Hath Told Twelve Lovers, To Bed; 'tis Almost Fairy Time. I Fear We Shall Outstep The Coming Morn As Much As We This Night Over-watch'd.

The Time Of Life Is Short; To Spend That Shortness Basely Were Too Long.