A Countenance More In Sorrow

To Be Direct And Honest Is Not Safe.

A Devil, A Born Devil On Whose Nature, Nurture Can Never Stick, On Whom My Pain, Humanly Taken, All Lost, Quite Lost.

Tis In My Memory Lock'd, And You Yourself Shall Keep The Key Of It.

O, Had I But Followed The Arts!

O' What May Man Within Him Hide, Though Angel On The Outward Side!