And To Thy Husband's Will Thine Shall

These Are Thy Glorious Works, Parent Of Good!

No Worthy Enterprise Can Be Done By Us Without Continual Plodding And Wearisomeness To Our Faint And Sensitive Abilities.

Fame Is The Last Infirmity Of The Human Mind.

Nor Jealousy Was Understood, The Injur'd Lover's Hell.

Darkness Now Rose, As Daylight Sunk, And Brought In Low'ring Night Her Shadowy Offspring.