Yet Once More, O Ye Laurels, And

Lethe, The River Of Oblivion, Rolls His Watery Labyrinth, Which Whoso Drinks Forgets Both Joy And Grief.

For No Falsehood Can Endure Touch Of Celestial Temper.

I Will Not Deny But That The Best Apology Against False Accusers Is Silence And Sufferance, And Honest Deeds Set Against Dishonest Words.

He Alone Is Worthy Of The Appellation Who Either Does Great Things, Or Teaches How They May Be Done, Or Describes Them With A Suitable Majesty When They Have Been Done; But Those Only Are Great Things Which Tend To Render Life More Happy, Which Increase The Innocent Enjoyments And Comforts Of Existence, Or Which Pave The Way To A State Of Future Bliss More Permanent And More Pure.

Capricious, Wanton, Bold, And Brutal Lust Is Meanly Selfish; When Resisted, Cruel; And, Like The Blast Of Pestilential Winds, Taints The Sweet Bloom Of Nature's Fairest Forms.