Love`s Reason`s Without Reason

Home-keeping Youth Have Ever Homely Wits.

Every Fair From Fair Sometime Declines

That Time Of Year Thou Mayst In Me Behold When Yellow Leaves, Or None, Or Few, Do Hang Upon Those Boughs Which Shake Against The Cold, Bare Ruin'd Choirs, Where Late The Sweet Birds Sang. In Me Thou Seest The Twilight Of Such Day, As After Sunset Fadeth In The West, Which By-and-by Black Night Doth Take Away.

Shall We Upon The Footing Of Our Land Send Fair-play Orders, And Make Compromise, Insinuation, Parley, And Base Truce, To Arms Invasive?

I Have Lov'd Her Ever Since I Saw Her; And Still I See Her Beautiful