A Sinful Heart Makes Feeble Hand.

He Turn'd His Charger As He Spake, Upon The River Shore, He Gave His Bridle Reins A Shake, Said, "adieu For Evermore, My Love, And Adieu For Evermore."

Here Is Neither Want Of Appetite Nor Mouths, Pray Heaven We Be Not Scant Of Meat Or Mirth.

Perhaps The Perusal Of Such Works May, Without Injustice, Be Compared With The Use Of Opiates, Baneful, When Habitually And Constantly Resorted To, But Of Most Blessed Power In Those Moments Of Pain And Of Langour, When The Whole Head Is Sore, And The Whole Heart Sick. If Those Who Rail Indiscriminately At This Species Of Composition, Were To Consider The Quantity Of Actual Pleasure It Produces, And The Much Greater Proportion Of Real Sorrow And Distress Which It Alleviates, Their Philanthropy Ought To Moderate Their Critical Pride, Or Religious Intolerance.

Heap On More Wood! - The Wind Is Chill; But Let It Whistle As It Will, We'll Keep Our Christmas Merry Still.

It Is A Great Disgrace To Religion, To Imagine That It Is An Enemy To Mirth And Cheerfulness, And A Severe Exacter Of Pensive Looks And Solemn Faces.