As The Twig Is Bent,

Love Finds An Altar For Forbidden Fires.

From Nature's Chain Whatever Link You Strike, Tenth Or Ten Thousandth, Breaks The Chain Alike.

Music Resembles Poetry, In Each Are Nameless Graces Which No Methods Teach, And Which A Master Hand Alone Can Reach.

In Men, We Various Ruling Passions Find; In Women, Two Almost Divide The Kind Those, Only Fixed, They First Or Last Obey, The Love Of Pleasure, And The Love Of Sway.

How Do We Know That We Have A Right To Kill Creatures That We Are So Little Above, As Dogs, For Our Curiosity Or Even For Some Use To Us?