For Thy Sweet Love Remember'd

Whatever Praises Itself But In The Deed, Devours The Deed In The Praise.

See The Minutes, How They Run, How Many Make The Hour Full Complete; How Many Hours Bring About The Day; How Many Days Will Finish Up The Year; How Many Years A Mortal Man May Live.

His Jest Will Savour But Of Shallow Wit, When Thousands Weep, More Than Did Laugh At It.

Dream On, Dream On, Of Bloody Deeds And Death.

That But This Blow Might Be The Be-all And The End-all Here, But Here, Upon This Bank And Shoal Of Time, We'ld Jump The Life To Come.