The good die first. - William Wordsworth

For the gods approve The depth, and not the tumult, of the soul.

Thou, while thy babes around thee cling, Shalt show us how divine a thing A Woman may be made.

My gentle Reader, I perceive / How patiently you’ve waited, / And now I fear that you expect / Some tale will be related. / O Reader! had you in your mind / Such stores as silent thought can bring, / O gentle Reader! you would find / A tale in every thing.