An Infatuated Man Is Not

Learning Is Better Worth Than Houses Or Land.

With Awe, Around These Silent Walks I Tread; These Are The Lasting Mansions Of The Dead.

Her Air, Her Manners, All Who Saw Admir'd; Courteous Though Coy, And Gentle Though Retir'd; The Joy Of Youth And Health Her Eyes Display'd, And Ease Of Heart Her Every Look Convey'd.

A Sly Old Fish, Too Cunning For The Hook.

This, Books Can Do-nor This Alone; They Give New Views To Life, And Teach Us How To Live; They Soothe The Grieved, The Stubborn They Chastise; Fools They Admonish, And Confirm The Wise. Their Aid They Yield To All: They Never Shun The Man Of Sorrow, Nor The Wretch Undone; Unlike The Hard, The Selfish, And The Proud, They Fly Not Sullen From The Suppliant Crowd; Nor Tell To Various People Various Things, But Show To Subjects, What They Show To Kings.