No Date Prefixed Directs Me In The

He Who Destroys A Good Book Kills Reason Itself.

Such Sights As Youthful Poets Dream On Summer Eves By Haunted Stream. Then To The Well-trod Stage Anon, If Jonson's Learned Sock Be On, Or Sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's Child, Warble His Native Wood-notes Wild.

For Evil News Rides Post, While Good News Baits.

Rocks Whereon Greatest Men Have Oftest Wreck'd.

So On This Windy Sea Of Land, The Fiend Walked Up And Down Alone Bent On His Prey.