Wine Works The Heart Up, Wakes The

The Lights And Shades, Whose Well-accorded Strife Gives All The Strength And Color Of Our Life.

Be Silent Always When You Doubt Your Sense.

Therefore They Who Say Our Thoughts Are Not Our Own Because They Resemble The Ancients, May As Well Say Our Faces Are Not Our Own, Because They Are Like Our Fathers: And Indeed It Is Very Unreasonable, That People Should Expect Us To Be Scholars, And Yet Be Angry To Find Us So.

Satire's My Weapon, But I'm Too Discreet To Run Amuck, And Tilt At All I Meet.

Pretty Conceptions, Fine Metaphors, Glittering Expressions, And Something Of A Neat Cast Of Verse Are Properly The Dress, Gems, Or Loose Ornaments Of Poetry.