Is it, in heav'n, a crime to love too well?
Some judge of authors' names, not works, and then Nor praise nor blame the writings, but the men.
How vast a memory has Love!
Whoe'er he be That tells my faults, I hate him mortally.
On life's vast ocean diversely we sail. Reasons the card, but passion the gale.
Not always actions show the man; we find who does a kindness is not therefore kind.