Then Hush Thee, My Darling,

True Love's The Gift Which God Has Given To Man Alone Beneath The Heaven: It Is Not Fantasy's Hot Fire, Whose Wishes Soon As Granted Fly; It Liveth Not In Fierce Desire.

For A Laggard In Love, And A Dastard In War, Was To Wed The Fair Ellen Of Lochinvar.

The Pith Of Conversation Does Not Consist In Exhibiting Your Own Superior Knowledge On Matters Of Small Consequence, But In Enlarging, Improving And Correcting The Information You Possess By The Authority Of Others.

I Am She, O Most Bucolical Juvenal, Under Whose Charge Are Placed The Milky Mothers Of The Herd.

We Do That In Our Zeal Our Calmer Moment Would Be Afraid To Answer.