His life I gave him, and did thereto add / My love without retention or restraint,

We must be satisfied with instant poetry; after all, Instant Quaker Oats tastes just as good as the regular stuff. But if, in fact, life in a velocitized world is one of the chief reasons we are writing prolific rubbish, it becomes our duty not to capitulate, but to resist and begin to write more careful poetry, drive more slowly, and brush our teeth longer and more often.

All running headlong after greedie ſpoiles: And more regarding gaine than victorie:

Over the centuries the wind made the walls of the farmhouse incline.