Improvement Is Nature.

Anglers Boast Of The Innocence Of Their Pastime; Yet It Puts Fellow-creatures To The Torture. They Pique Themselves On Their Meditative Faculties; And Yet Their Only Excuse Is A Want Of Thought.

Occupation Is The Necessary Basis Of All Enjoyment.

Little Eyes Must Be Good-tempered Or They Are Ruined. They Have No Other Resource. But This Will Beautify Them Enough. They Are Made For Laughing, And, Should Do Their Duty.

Jenny Kissed Me When We Met, Jumping From The Chair She Sat In; Time, You Thief, Who Love To Get Sweets Into Your List, Put That In: Say I'm Weary, Say I'm Sad, Say That Health And Wealth Have Missed Me, Say I'm Growing Old, But Add-- Jenny Kissed Me!

We Are Slumberous Poppies, Lords Of Lethe Downs, Some Awake And Some Asleep, Sleeping In Our Crowns. What Perchance Our Dreams May Know, Let Our Serious May Know.