human
Verily do I remember that young Tom, a jocund, pleasant, yet intrusive lad. Yet do I wish him well, and am grieved that he should be so taken by that maiden Mary. Well may we say of her, as Horace hath of Pyrrha--`_Quis multa gracilis te puer in rosa, perfusis liquidis urgit odoribus, grate, Pyrrha, sub antro. Cui flavam religas comam, simplex munditiis_.' I grieve at it, yea, grieve much. _Heu, quoties fidem mutatosque Deos flebit_! Verily, Jacob, I do prophesy that she will lead him into error, yea, perhaps into perdition.
gpt
I trust not, sir,