Heaven Know Its Time; The

O Woman! In Our Hours Of Ease Uncertain, Coy, And Hard To Please, And Variable As The Shade By The Light Quivering Aspen Made; When Pain And Anguish Wring The Brow, A Ministering Angel Thou!

There Is A Vulgar Incredulity, Which In Historical Matters, As Well As In Those Of Religion, Finds It Easier To Doubt Than To Examine.

Though Varying Wishes, Hopes, And Fears, Fever'd The Progress Of These Years, Yet Now, Days, Weeks, And Months But Seem The Recollection Of A Dream.

There Is A Southern Proverb - Fine Words Butter No Parsnips.

A Sinful Heart Makes Feeble Hand.