There Is A Pleasure In Poetic Pains

Philologists, Who Chase A Painting Syllable Through Time And Space Start It At Home, And Hunt It In The Dark, To Gaul, To Greece, And Into Noah's Ark.

A Self-made Man? Yes, And One Who Worships His Creator.

The Bud May Have A Bitter Taste, But Sweet Will Be The Flower.

If Hindrances Obstruct The Way, Thy Magnanimity Display. And Let Thy Strength Be Seen: But O, If Fortune Fill Thy Sail With More Than A Propitious Gale, Take Half Thy Canvas In.

Stamps God's Own Name Upon A Lie Just Made, To Turn A Penny In The Way Of Trade.