Talkers Are No Good Doers.

Can I Go Forward When My Heart Is Here?

My Love Is As A Fever, Longing Still.

Exceeds Man's Might: That Dwells With The Gods Above.

In Jest, There Is Truth.

But Thou, Contracted To Thine Own Bright Eyes, Feed'st Thy Light's Flame With Self-substantial Fuel, Making A Famine Where Abundance Lies, Thyself Thy Foe, To Thy Sweet Self Too Cruel.