The Sun To Me Is

. . . For Beauty Stands In The Admiration Only Of Weak Minds Led Captive. Cease To Admire, And All Her Plumes Fall Flat And Shrink Into A Trivial Toy, At Every Sudden Slighting Quite Abash'd.

I Will Not Deny But That The Best Apology Against False Accusers Is Silence And Sufferance, And Honest Deeds Set Against Dishonest Words.

You Can Make Hell Out Of Heaven And Heaven Out Of Hell. It's All In The Mind.

His Sleep Was Aery Light, From Pure Digestion Bred.

And Looks Commercing With The Skies, Thy Rapt Soul Sitting In Thine Eyes.