Sweet Are The Slumbers Of The Virtuous

For Ever Singing As They Shine, The Hand That Made Us Is Divine.

T Is Liberty Crowns Britannia's Isle, And Makes Her Barren Rocks And Her Bleak Mountains Smile.

There Is Nothing Which One Regards So Much With An Eye Of Mirth And Pity As Innocence When It Has In It A Dash Of Folly.

It Is Ridiculous For Any Man To Criticize On The Works Of Another, Who Has Not Distinguished Himself By His Own Performances.

There Is No Kind Of False Wit Which Has Been So Recommended By The Practice Of All Ages, As That Which Consists In A Jingle Of Words, And Is Comprehended Under The General Name Of Punning.