He who would pry behind the scenes oft sees a counterfeit.

New vows to plight, and plighted vows to break.

Either be wholly slaves or wholly free.

For age but tastes of pleasures youth devours.

Errors like straws upon the surface flow, Who would search for pearls to be grateful for often must dive below.

Love reckons hours for months, and days for years; and every little absence is an age.

And love's the noblest frailty of the mind.