Dim Eclipse, Disastrous Twilight.

Who Overcomes By Force, Hath Overcome But Half His Foe.

To Many A Youth And Many A Maid, Dancing In The Chequer'd Shade.

We Should Be Wary What Persecution We Raise Against The Living Labors Of Public Men, How We Spill That Seasoned Life Of Man, Preserved And Stored Up In Books, Since We See A Kind Of Homicide May Be Thus Committed, Sometimes A Martyrdom; And If It Extend To The Whole Impression, A Kind Of Massacre, Whereof The Execution Ends Not In The Slaying Of An Elemental Life, But Strikes At The Ethereal And Fifth Essence, The Breath Of Reason Itself; Slays An Immortality Rather Than A Life.

His Sleep Was Aery Light, From Pure Digestion Bred.

No Date Prefixed Directs Me In The Starry Rubric Set.