Nothing Is More Completely The Child Of

Do Not Christians And Heathens, And Jews And Gentiles, And Poets And Philosophers, Unite In Allowing The Starry Influences?

War Is The Only Game In Which Both Sides Lose.

The Sickening Pang Of Hope Deferr'd.

If A Faultless Poem Could Be Produced, I Am Satisfied It Would Tire The Critics Themselves; And Annoy The Whole Reading World With The Spleen.

For Deadly Fear Can Time Outgo, And Blanch At Once The Hair.