Is Not Absence Death To Those Who

True Disputants Are Like True Sportsmen: Their Whole Delight Is In The Pursuit.

Vice Is A Monster Of So Frightful Mien As To Be Hated Needs But To Be Seen; Yet Seen Too Oft, Familiar With Her Face, We First Endure, Then Pity, Then Embrace.

Ladies, Like Variegated Tulips, Show 'tis To Their Changes Half Their Charms We Owe.

Nature Made Every Fop To Plague His Brother, Just As One Beauty Mortifies Another.

Here Hills And Vales, The Woodland And The Plain Here Earth And Water Seem To Strive Again, Not Chaos-like Together Crushed And Bruised, But, As The World, Harmoniously Confused: Where Order In Variety We See, And Where, Though All Things Differ, All Agree.