Sick In The World's Regard,

God, The Best Maker Of All Marriages, Combine Your Hearts Into One.

Man, Proud Man, Drest In A Little Brief Authority, Most Ignorant Of What He's Most Assured.

So May I, Blind Fortune Leading Me, Miss That Which One Unworthier May Attain, And Die With Grieving.

Fruits That Blossom First Will First Be Ripe.

We Will All Laugh At Gilded Butterflies.