Hope Is Such A Bait, It Covers

Thus Let Me Hold Thee To My Heart, And Every Care Resign: And We Shall Never, Never Part, My Life-my All That's Mine!

Aromatic Plants Bestow No Spicy Fragrance While They Grow; But Crush'd Or Trodden To The Ground, Diffuse Their Balmy Sweets Around.

The Mind Is Ever Ingenious In Making Its Own Distress.

All Is Not Gold That Glitters, Pleasure Seems Sweet, But Proves A Glass Of Bitters

Alike All Ages. Dames Of Ancient Days Have Led Their Children Through The Mirthful Maze, And The Gay Grandsire, Skill'd In Gestic Lore, Has Frisk'd Beneath The Burden Of Threescore.