Glory, Like The Phoenix 'midst

The Light Of Love, The Purity Of Grace, The Mind, The Music Breathing From Her Face, The Heart Whose Softness Harmonised The Whole — And, Oh! That Eye Was In Itself A Soul!

Hearts Will Break - Yet Brokenly, Live On.

Though I Love My Country, I Do Not Love My Countrymen.

I Am Acquainted With No Immaterial Sensuality So Delightful As Good Acting.

O Ye! Who Teach The Ingenious Youth Of Nations, Holland, France, England, Germany Or Spain, I Pray Ye Flog Them Upon All Occasions, It Mends Their Morals, Never Mind The Pain.