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Oh most, dear horrors of all conscious night. How glowing guilt exalts the keen delight Provoking deamons all restraint remove And stir within me every source of love. I hear thee, view thee, gaze o'er all thy charms And round the phantom glue my clasping arms. I wake - no more I hear, no more I view The phantom flies me, as unkind as you. I call aloud, it hears not what I say I stretch my empty arms, it glides away To dream once more, I close my willing Eyes Ye soft illusions, dear deceits arise Alas no more! methinks we wan'dring go Thro' dreary wastes, & weep each others woe. Where round some mould'ring tow'rs pale ivy creeps [[underline]] And low brown'd rocks hang nodding o'er the deeps. [[/underline]] Iago to Othello Good name in man & woman, dear my Lord Is the immediate Jewel of their Souls: Who steals my purse, steals trash, 'tis something, nothing, 'Twas mine, 'tis his, & has been slave to thousands, But he that filches from me, my good name Robs me of that, which not enriches him, and makes me poor indeed. --
