Do Not Spread The Compost

Poor And Content Is Rich, And Rich Enough.

Is This A Vision? Is This A Dream? Do I Sleep?

What? Do I Love Her, That I Desire To Hear Her Speak Again, And Feast Upon Her Eyes

A High Hope For A Low Heaven: God Grant Us Patience!

I Will Not Choose What Many Men Desire, Because I Will Not Jump With Common Spirits And Rank Me With The Barbarous Multitudes.