How happy a thing were a wedding, And a bedding, If a man might purchase a wife For a twelvemonth and a day
Sit the comedy out, and that done, when the Play's at an end, let the Curtain fall down.
Thoughts! what are they? They are my constant friends, who, when harsh fate its dull brow bends, uncloud me with a smiling ray, and in the depth of midnight force a day.
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