An Inadvertent Step May Crush The Snail

Not A Flower But Shows Some Touch, In Freckle, Streak Or Stain, Of His Unrivall'd Pencil. He Inspires Their Balmy Odors, And Imparts Their Hues, And Bathes Their Eyes With Nectar, And Includes In Grains As Countless As The Seaside Sands, The Forms With Which He Sprinkles All The Earth Happy Who Walks With Him!

Solitude, Seeming A Sanctuary, Proves A Grave; A Sepulchre In Which The Living Lie, Where All Good Qualities Grow Sick And Die

Did Charity Prevail, The Press Would Prove A Vehicle Of Virtue, Truth, And Love.

Restraining Prayer, We Cease To Fight; Prayer Keeps The Christian's Armor Bright; And Satan Trembles When He Sees The Weakest Saint Upon His Knees.

Ever Let The Fancy Roam, Pleasure Never Is At Home.