I Would Rather Have A

Give Me A Look, Give Me A Face, That Makes Simplicity A Grace Robes Loosely Flowing, Hair As Free Such Sweet Neglect More Taketh Me Than All The Adulteries Of Art: They Strike Mine Eyes, But Not My Heart.

Who Falls For Love Of God, Shall Rise A Star.

Forbear, You Things That Stand Upon The Pinnacles Of State, To Boast Your Slippery Height! When You Do Fall, You Dash Yourselves In Pieces, Ne'er To Rise: And He That Lends You Pity, Is Not Wise.

To Men Pressed By Their Wants All Change Is Ever Welcome.

Truth Is Man's Proper Good, And The Only Immortal Thing Was Given To Our Mortality To Use.