Transforms Old Print To Zigzag Manuscript, And

I Pity Bashful Men, Who Feel The Pain Of Fancied Scorn And Undeserved Disdain, And Bear The Marks Upon A Blushing Face, Of Needless Shame, And Self-impos'd Disgrace.

The Art Of Poetry Is To Touch The Passions, And Its Duty To Lead Them On The Side Of Virtue.

No Tree In All The Grove But Has Its Charms, Though Each Its Hue Peculiar.

Tis Providence Alone Secures In Every Change Both Mine And Yours.

The Cross! There, And There Only (though The Deist Rave, And The Atheist, If Earth Bears So Base A Slave); There And There Only, Is The Power To Save.