Still Are The Thoughts To

Who O'er The Herd Would Wish To Reign, Fantastic, Fickle, Fierce, And Vain! Vain As The Leaf Upon The Stream, And Fickle As A Changeful Dream; Fantastic As A Woman's Mood, And Fierce As Frenzy's Fever'd Blood. Thou Many-headed Monster Thing, Oh Who Would Wish To Be Thy King!

For A Laggard In Love, And A Dastard In War, Was To Wed The Fair Ellen Of Lochinvar.

For Love Is Heaven And Heaven Is Love.

Perhaps The Perusal Of Such Works May, Without Injustice, Be Compared With The Use Of Opiates, Baneful, When Habitually And Constantly Resorted To, But Of Most Blessed Power In Those Moments Of Pain And Of Langour, When The Whole Head Is Sore, And The Whole Heart Sick. If Those Who Rail Indiscriminately At This Species Of Composition, Were To Consider The Quantity Of Actual Pleasure It Produces, And The Much Greater Proportion Of Real Sorrow And Distress Which It Alleviates, Their Philanthropy Ought To Moderate Their Critical Pride, Or Religious Intolerance.

The Pith Of Conversation Does Not Consist In Exhibiting Your Own Superior Knowledge On Matters Of Small Consequence, But In Enlarging, Improving And Correcting The Information You Possess By The Authority Of Others.