. . . It Is Impossible You

I Hold The World But As The World, Gratiano!

Here Feel We But The Penalty Of Adam, The Seasons' Difference, As The Icy Fang And Churlish Chiding Of The Winter's Wind, Which, When It Bites And Blows Upon My Body, Even Till I Shrink With Cold, I Smile.

Dumb Jewels Often, In Their Silent Kind, More Than Quick Words, Do Move A Woman's Mind.

A Table-full Of Welcome!

Let Me Be Ignorant, And In Nothing Good, But Graciously To Know I Am No Better.