Travelers Never Did Lie, Though

Things Won Are Done, Joy's Soul Lies In The Doing.

They May Seize On The White Wonder Of Dear Juliet's Hand And Steal Immortal Blessing From Her Lips, Who, Even In Pure And Vestal Modesty, Still Blush, As Thinking Their Own Kisses Sin.

O! For A Muse Of Fire, That Would Ascend The Brightest Heaven Of Invention.

None Can Cure Their Harms By Wailing Them.

Delivers In Such Apt And Gracious Words That Aged Ears Play Truant At His Tales; And Younger Hearings Are Quite Ravished; So Sweet And Voluble Is His Discourse.