Unmissed But By His Dogs And By

The Statesman, Lawyer, Merchant, Man Of Trade Pants For The Refuge Of Some Rural Shade, Where All His Long Anxieties Forgot Amid The Charms Of A Sequester'd Spot, Or Recollected Only To Gild O'er And Add A Smile To What Was Sweet Before, He May Possess The Joys He Thinks He Sees, Lay His Old Age Upon The Lap Of Ease, Improve The Remnant Of His Wasted Span. And Having Lived A Trifler, Die A Man.

The Innocent Seldom Find An Uncomfortable Pillow.

Man Disavows, And Deity Disowns Me: Hell Might Afford My Miseries A Shelter; Therefore Hell Keeps Her Ever-hungry Mouths All Bolted Against Me.

Fancy, Like The Finger Of A Clock, Runs The Great Circuit, And Is Still At Home.

It Is A Terrible Thought, That Nothing Is Ever Forgotten; That Not An Oath Is Ever Uttered That Does Not Continue To Vibrate Through All Times, In The Wide Spreading Current Of Sound; That Not A Prayer Is Lisped, That Its Record Is Not To Be Found St