Time laughed into my eyes with head so thrown back, so tilted, with such biting and bitter chuckles that through my eye there passed a lightning tremor; and like a splinter of that ringing laughter, madness pierced me through and through.
I heard within me a wild dog-like whining growing ever more pitiless, savage, villainous: " Why! — am I my brother's keeper? " And from the heights swooped down a lightning-stroke — a rope to strangle the hidden withered happiness.

How many friends death steals how many more
Doth time prove false that seemed so true before
Where are those warm with yesterday — gone gone
Like summer birds when winter cometh on
Where those so warm at yester evenings close
Gone as the cuckoo with the summer goes
They met us happy but on yesterday
& leave us lonely with our griefs today

When wars alarms enticed my Willy from me
My poor heart with grief did sigh
His fond remembrance brought fresh sorrows on me
When I awoke the morn was night
No other could delight him
Could I but listen to his fond tales
Which drove him far amidst the rage of war
& left silly me thus to bewail

When Caudy maudys lived in the Fen
They brewd good ale for Gentlemen
Till gentlemen came every day
& Caudy maudys flew away

Lifes just like a poesy its colours are rare
When we pluck it & place it & tie it with care
But it withers & dies & at last it seems
A bunch of brown stalks of less then dreams

The poesy of life is past
& withered stalks remain
A few years pass & beauty face
Is hardly known again

The sunday cloaths wait on the chair
& with blank leaves for books
Childern are saying lessons there
While the suppers on the hooks

Come come with me
To the green summer lea
& let us away from the town
Where nothings met at all
But heart aches & thrall
& falshood alone goeth down

Joy blooms precarious like to summer flowers
But when cares cross our sky with gloomy hours
From suns that deckt our pleasant path awhile
She turns her face & all forget to smile

Tho fairer faces may be met
I know not where they be
They may be so to others — yet
They cant be so to me
There may be maids of brighter eyes
When others see them shine
But none hath beamed so tenderly
Upon my hopes as thine