The curious crime, the fine Felicity and flower of wickedness.
At last awake from life, that insane dream we take for waking now.
Who knows but the world may end tonight
Where the apple reddens never pry - lest we lose our Edens, Eve and I.
The great beacon light God sets in all, the conscience of each bosom.
Better have failed in the high aim, as I, Than vulgarly in the low aim succeed As, God be thanked! I do not.