Woman's At Best A Contradiction Still.

The Approach Of Night The Skies Yet Blushing With Departing Light, When Falling Dews With Spangles Deck'd The Glade, And The Low Sun Had Lengthen'd Ev'ry Shade.

Nor Public Flame, Nor Private, Dares To Shine; Nor Human Spark Is Left, Nor Glimpse Divine! Lo! Thy Dread Empire, Chaos! Is Restored; Light Dies Before Thy Uncreating Word: Thy Hand, Great Anarch! Lets The Curtain Fall; And Universal Darkness Buries All.

If Faith Itself Has Different Dresses Worn, What Wonder Modes In Wit Should Take Their Turn?

It Often Happens That Those Are The Best People Whose Characters Have Been Most Injured By Slanderers: As We Usually Find That To Be The Sweetest Fruit Which The Birds Have Been Picking At.

Like Cato, Give His Little Senate Laws, And Sit Attentive To His Own Applause.