Poets lose half the praise they should have got, Could it be known what they discreetly blot.
Edmund WallerHappy the innocent whose equal thoughts are free from anguish as they are from faults.
Edmund WallerHappy is she that from the world retires, and carries with her what the world admires.
Edmund WallerGo, lovely rose, Tell her that wastes her time and me, That now she knows, When I resemble her to thee, How sweet and fair she seems to be.
Edmund Waller