The Summer's Flower Is To

She Told Her, While She Kept It, 'twould Make Her Amiable And Subdue My Father Entirely To Her Love, But If She Lost It Or Made A Gift Of It, My Father's Eye Should Hold Her Loathed And His Spirits Should Hunt After New Fancies.

I'll Never Be Such A Gosling To Obey Instinct, But Stand As Is A Man Were Author Of Himself And Knew No Other Kin.

O Death, Made Proud With Pure And Princely Beauty!

My Wits Begin To Turn.

I Have Supped Full With Horrors.