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 I kissed thee, panting, and, I call Night to the record! that was all. But, ah! if empty dreams so please, Love give me more such nights as these.

Here we are all by day; by night we're hurl'd By dreams, each one into a sev'ral world.

In man ambition is the common'st thing; Each one by nature loves to be a king.

Julia, if I chance to die Ere I print my poetry, I most humbly thee desire To commit it to the fire: Better 'twere my book were dead Than to live not perfected.

Fight thou with shafts of silver and o'ercome, When no force else can get the masterdom.

Water, water I desire, Here's a house of flesh on fire; Ope the fountains and the springs, And come all to bucketings: What ye cannot quench pull down; Spoil a house to save a town: Better 'tis that one should fall, Than by one to hazard all. Scare-fire, fire-alarm.