Death, So Called, Is A Thing Which

There Is No Passion, More Spectral Or Fantastical Than Hate, Not Even Its Opposite, Love, So Peoples Air, With Phantoms, As This Madness Of The Heart.

It Is Not For Minds Like Ours To Give Or To Receive Flatter; Yet The Praises Of Sincerity Have Ever Been Permitted To The Voice Of Friendship

What Opposite Discoveries We Have Seen! (signs Of True Genius, And Of Empty Pockets.) One Makes New Noses, One A Guillotine, One Breaks Your Bones, One Sets Them In Their Sockets; But Vaccination Certainly Has Been A Kind Antithesis To Congreve's Rockets.

Romances Paint At Full Length People's Wooing. But Only Give A Bust Of Marriages.

She Walks In Beauty, Like The Night Of Cloudless Climes And Starry Skies; And All That's Best Of Dark And Bright Meet In Her Aspect And Her Eyes.