Praise From A Friend, Or Censure From

Get Your Enemy To Read Your Works In Order To Mend Them, For Your Friend Is So Much Your Second Self That He Will Judge Too Like You.

Let Opening Roses Knotted Oaks Adorn, And Liquid Amber Drop From Every Thorn.

Jarring Interests Of Themselves Create The According Music Of A Well-mixed State.

Pretty! In Amber To Observe The Forms Of Hairs, Of Straws, Or Dirt, Or Grubs, Or Worms! The Things, We Know, Are Neither Rich Nor Rare, But Wonder How The Devil They Got There.

The Hog That Ploughs Not, Not Obeys Thy Call, Lives On The Labours Of This Lord Of All.