The Timely Dew Of Sleep.

Oft, On A Plat Of Rising Ground, I Hear The Far-off Curfew Sound Over Some Wide-watered Shore, Swinging Low With Sullen Roar.

Most Men Admire Virtue Who Follow Not Her Lore.

With Thee Conversing I Forget All Time.

But All Was False And Hollow; Though His Tongue Dropp'd Manna, And Could Make The Worse Appear The Better Reason, 4 To Perplex And Dash Maturest Counsels.

Evil, Be Thou My Good.