Then cherish pity, lest you drive an angel from your door.

Without minute neatness of execution, the sublime cannot exist! Grandeur of ideas is founded on precision of ideas.

The soul of sweet delight, can never be defiled.

I asked a thief to steal me a peach: He turned up his eyes. I asked a lithe lady to lie her down: Holy and meek, she cries. As soon as I went An angel came. He winked at the thief And smiled at the dame- And without one word spoke Had a peach from the tree, And 'twixt earnest and joke Enjoyed the lady.

I went to the Garden of Love, And saw what I never had seen: A Chapel was built in the midst, Where I used to play on the green. And the gates of this Chapel were shut, And 'Thou shalt not' writ over the door; So I turn'd to the Garden of Love, That so many sweet flowers bore. And I saw it was filled with graves, And tomb-stones where flowers should be: And Priests in black gowns, were walking their rounds, And binding with briars, my joys & desires.

The fool who persists in his folly will become wise.

Children of the future age Reading this indignant page Know that in a former time Love, sweet love, was thought a crime