Pensive Sara on The Eolian Harp:

My fanciful Sam! thy rough arm align'd
Thus with my cheek, most disconcerting 'tis
To sprawl beside our cot, our cot o'er grown
Through your neglecting Dreams, and poet's Scribblings,
(Meet emblems they of your forgetful Love!)
And watch the skies, that late were rich with clouds,
Grow raindrops round, and mark the chilling wind
Hungrily knawing (such should Knowledge be)...