When All Within Is Peace How Nature

E'er Since, By Faith, I Saw The Stream Thy Flowing Wounds Supply, Redeeming Love Has Been My Theme, And Shall Be Till I Die.

All Affectation; 'tis My Perfect Scorn; Object Of My Implacable Disgust.

Our Love Is Principle, And Has Its Root In Reason, Is Judicious, Manly, Free.

The Parson Knows Enough Who Knows A Duke.

Strength May Wield The Ponderous Spade, May Turn The Clod, And Wheel The Compost Home; But Elegance, Chief Grace The Garden Shows, And Most Attractive, Is The Fair Result Of Thought, The Creature Of A Polished Mind.