Above all law is might Ev'ry grave's the same Favours, when conferred with sullen air, But little gratify Historick writ No folly greater than to heighten pain No grief so great, but what may be subdued Of't what we would not, we're obliged to do Removed from sight, but few for lovers grieve The eyes:--Soul-speaking language, nothing can disguise The god of love and wisdom ne'er agree Tis all the same:--'twill never make me grieve Tis past our pow'r to live on love or air You little dream for whom you guard the store