Still Ending, And Beginning Still.

Religion, If In Heavenly Truths Attired, Needs Only To Be Seen To Be Admired.

How Shall I Speak Thee, Or Thy Power Address Thou God Of Our Idolatry, The Press. . . . . Like Eden's Dead Probationary Tree, Knowledge Of Good And Evil Is From Thee.

In Indolent Vacuity Of Thought.

As If The World And They Were Hand And Glove.

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