Ink Is The Blood Of The Printing-press.

Look Homeward, Angel, Now, And Melt With Ruth.

The Love-lorn Nightingale Nightly To Thee Her Sad Song Mourneth Well.

For Contemplation He And Valour Formed; / For Softness She And Sweet Attractive Grace, / He For God Only, She For God In Him: / His Fair Large Front And Eye Sublime Declared / Absolute Rule.

Herbs, And Other Country Messes, Which The Neat-handed Phillis Dresses.

The Planets In Their Station List'ning Stood.