Who, As They Sung, Would Take The

Anarchy Is The Sure Consequence Of Tyranny; For No Power That Is Not Limited By Laws Can Ever Be Protected By Them.

Bacchus, That First From Out The Purple Grape Crush'd The Sweet Poison Of Misused Wine.

Solitude Is Sometimes The Best Society.

Knowledge Cannot Defile, Nor Consequently The Books, If The Will And Conscience Be Not Defiled.

Sweet Intercourse Of Looks And Smiles; For Smiles From Reason Flow.