I Argue Thee That Love

The Career Of Flowers Differs From Ours Only Inaudibleness.

Love Is Done When Loves Begun, Sages Say, But Have Sages Known?

My Friends Are My Estate. Forgive Me Then The Avarice To Hoard Them!

Love Is Its Own Rescue; For We, At Our Supremest, Are But Its Trembling Emblems.

The Will Is Always Near, Dear, Though The Feet Vary.