Whatever Is, Is In Its Causes Just.

Nature Meant Me A Wife, A Silly, Harmless, Household Dove, Fond Without Art, And Kind Without Deceit.

Bold Knaves Thrive Without One Grain Of Sense, But Good Men Starve For Want Of Impudence.

As When The Dove Returning Bore The Mark Of Earth Restored To The Long Labouring Ark; The Relics Of Mankind, Secure At Rest, Oped Every Window To Receive The Guest, And The Fair Bearer Of The Message Bless'd.

Shakespeare Was Naturally Learned; He Needed Not The Spectacles Of The Books To Read Nature; He Looked Inward, And Found Her There.

One Cannot Say He Wanted Wit, But Rather That He Was Frugal Of It.