Absence - That Common Cure Of Love.

So The Struck Eagle, Stretch'd Upon The Plain, No More Through Rolling Clouds To Soar Again, View'd His Own Feather On The Fatal Dart, And Wing'd The Shaft That Quiver'd In His Heart.

Oh, Christ! It Is A Goodly Sight To See What Heaven Hath Done For This Delicious Land!

Think'st Thou Existence Doth Depend On Time? It Doth; But Actions Are Our Epochs.

A Quiet Conscience Makes One So Serene.

The Poor Dog, In Life The Firmest Friend. The First To Welcome, Foremost To Defend.