Thou Tyrant, Tyrant Jealousy, Thou

Sweet Is Pleasure After Pain.

Trust Reposed In Noble Natures Obliges Them The More.

For My Part, I Can Compare Her (a Gossip) To Nothing But The Sun; For, Like Him, She Knows No Rest, Nor Ever Sets In One Place But To Rise In Another.

Happy The Man, And Happy He Alone, He Who Can Call Today His Own; He Who, Secure Within, Can Say, Tomorrow Do Thy Worst, For I Have Lived Today.

Rich The Treasure, Sweet The Pleasure,- Sweet Is Pleasure After Pain.