Be warm, be pure, be amorous, but be chaste.
Man is in part divine, A troubled stream from a pure source.
Send me no more reviews of any kind. I will read no more of evil or good in that line. Walter Scott has not read a review of himself for thirteen years .
He learned the arts of riding, fencing, gunnery, And how to scale a fortress - or a nunnery.
Grief is fantastical, and loves the dead, And the apparel of the grave.
And those who saw, it did surprise, Such drops could fall from human eyes.