A Lazy Frost, A Numbness Of The

Death Only This Mysterious Truth Unfolds, The Mighty Soul How Small A Body Holds.

For Art May Err, But Nature Cannot Miss.

He Who Proposes To Be An Author Should First Be A Student.

But Dying Is A Pleasure / When Living Is A Pain.

The Propriety Of Thoughts And Words, Which Are The Hidden Beauties Of A Play, Are But Confusedly Judged In The Vehemence Of Action.