Solitude, Seeming A Sanctuary, Proves

Strange As It May Seem, The Most Ludicrous Lines I Ever Wrote Have Been Written In The Saddest Mood.

A Christian's Wit Is Offensive Light, A Beam That Aids, But Never Grieves The Sight; Vig'rous In Age As In The Flush Of Youth, 'tis Always Active On The Side Of Truth.

Ceremony Leads Her Bigots Forth, Prepared To Fight For Shadows Of No Worth. While Truths, On Which Eternal Things Depend, Can Hardly Find A Single Friend.

Satan Trembles When He Sees The Weakest Saint Upon Their Knees.

When From Soft Love Proceeds The Deep Distress, Ah! Why Forbid The Willing Tears To Flow?