Every Wolf's And Lion's Howl

As I Was Walking Among The Fires Of Hell, Delighted With The Enjoyments Of Genius; Which To Angels Look Like Torment And Insanity, I Collected Some Of Their Proverbs.

How Have You Left The Ancient Love That Bards Of Old Enjoyed In You! The Languid Strings Do Scarcely Move! The Sound Is Forced, The Notes Are Few!

A Good Local Pub Has Much In Common With A Church, Except That A Pub Is Warmer, And There's More Conversation.

The Spirits Of The Air Live On The Smells Of Fruit; And Joy, With Pinions Light, Roves Round The Gardens, Or Sits Singing In The Trees.

Every Night And Every Morn Some To Misery Are Born. Every Morn And Every Night Some Are Born To Sweet Delight, Some Are Born To Endless Night.