The Beggarly Last Doit.

'tis Liberty Alone That Gives The Flower Of Fleeting Life Its Lustre And Perfume; And We Are Weeds Without It.

Learning Itself, Received Into A Mind By Nature Weak, Or Viciously Inclined, Serves But To Lead Philosophers Astray, Where Children Would With Ease Discern The Way.

Did Charity Prevail, The Press Would Prove A Vehicle Of Virtue, Truth, And Love.

Time, As He Passes Us, Has A Dove's Wing, Unsoil'd, And Swift, And Of A Silken Sound.

[my Kitten] Is Dressed In A Tortoise-shell Suit, And I Know You Will Delight In Her.