He Who Destroys A Good

Thus I Set My Printless Feet O'er The Cowslip's Velvet Head, That Bends Not As I Tread.

No Date Prefixed Directs Me In The Starry Rubric Set.

Our Torments Also May In Length Of Time Become Our Elements, These Piercing Fires As Soft As Now Severe, Our Temper Changed Into Their Temper.

Or If Virtue Feeble Were, Heav'n Itself Would Stoop To Her.

Such Sights As Youthful Poets Dream On Summer Eves By Haunted Stream. Then To The Well-trod Stage Anon, If Jonson's Learned Sock Be On, Or Sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's Child, Warble His Native Wood-notes Wild.