Satan Trembles When He Sees

Though Peace Be Made, Yet It's Interest That Keep Peace.

The Art Of Poetry Is To Touch The Passions, And Its Duty To Lead Them On The Side Of Virtue.

I Crown Thee King Of Intimate Delights, Fire-side Enjoyments, Home-born Happiness, And All The Comforts That The Lowly Roof Of Undisturb'd Retirement, And The Hours Of Long Uninterrupted Ev'ning, Know.

Absence Of Proof Is Not Proof Of Absence.

Me Howling Blasts Drive Devious, Tempest-tossed, / Sails Ripped, Seams Opening Wide, And Compass Lost.