What Is Grand Is Necessarily Obscure To

All Pictures That's Painted With Sense And With Thought / Are Painted By Madmen As Sure As A Groat; / For The Greater The Fool In The Pencil More Blest, / And When They Are Drunk They Always Paint Best.

Death Is Terrible, Tho' Borne On Angels' Wings!

To Be An Error And To Be Cast Out Is A Part Of God's Design.

How Can The Bird That Is Born For Joy Sit In A Cage And Sing? How Can A Child, When Fears Annoy, But Droop His Tender Wing, And Forget His Youthful Spring?

To Chloe's Breast Young Cupid Slily Stole, But He Crept In At Myra's Pocket-hole.