Amidst The Soft Variety I'm Lost.

Nature Has Laid Out All Her Art In Beautifying The Face; She Has Touched It With Vermilion, Planted In It A Double Row Of Ivory, Made It The Seat Of Smiles And Blushes, Lighted It Up And Enlivened It With The Brightness Of The Eyes, Hung It On Each Side With Curious Organs Of Sense, Given It Airs And Graces That Cannot Be Described, And Surrounded It With Such A Flowing Shade Of Hair As Sets All Its Beauties In The Most Agreeable Light.

Arguments Out Of A Pretty Mouth Are Unanswerable.

Adulterers, In The First Stages Of The Church, Were Excommunicated Forever, And Unqualified All Their Lives For Bearing A Part In Christian Assemblies, Notwithstanding They Might Seek It With Tears, And All The Appearances Of The Most Unfeigned Repentance.

Love Is A Second Life.

Mysterious Love, Uncertain Treasure, Hast Thou More Of Pain Or Pleasure! Endless Torments Dwell About Thee: Yet Who Would Live, And Live Without Thee!