Never weather-beaten sail more willing bent to shore.

Never weather-beaten sail more willing bent to shore.

Kind are her answers, But her performance keeps no day; Breaks time, as dancers. From their own Music when they stray.

All our pride is but a jest. None are worst and none are best. Grief and hope and joy and fear Play their pageant everywhere.

A prudent pharmacist often vends something for your complaint. But wine merchant you do this invariably.

Let now the chimneys blaze And cups o’erflow with wine... The summer hath his joys, And winter his delights; Though love and all his pleasures are but toys, They shorten tedious nights.

There is a garden in her eyes, where roses and white lilies flow.