Words will not fail when the matter is well considered.
I shall not wholly die, and a great part of me will escape the grave.
"Painters and poets," you say, "have always had an equal license in bold invention." We know; we claim the liberty for ourselves and in turn we give it to others.
I strive to be brief, and become obscure.
If you drive nature out with a pitchfork, she will soon find a way back.
Let me posses what I now have, or even less, so that I may enjoy my remaining days, if Heaven grant any to remain.