O, she misused me past the endurance of a block.
He was ever precise in promise-keeping.
As you are old and reverend, you should be wise.
I do beseech you- Though I perchance am vicious in my guess , that your wisdom yet From one that so imperfectly conjects Would take no notice, nor build yourself a trouble Out of his scattering and unsure observance.
My grief lies onward, and my joy behind.
Thou art as wise as thou art beautiful