Peace, prattler.

“Have I no harvest but a thorn   To let me bloud, and not restoreWhat I have los…”

“For, if I imp my wing on thine,Affliction shall advance the flight in me.”

“Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright,The bridal of the earth and sky;The dew …”

“Man is no star, but a quick coalOf mortal fire:Who blows it not, nor doth contr…”