Thieves At Home Must Hang;

Great Offices Will Have Great Talents.

Misery Still Delights To Trace Its Semblance In Another's Case.

Go, Mark The Matchless Working Of The Power That Shuts Within The Seed The Future Flower; Bids These In Elegance Of Form Excel. In Color These, And Those Delight The Smell; Sends Nature Forth, The Daughter Of The Skies, To Dance On Earth, And Charm All Human Eyes.

Restraining Prayer, We Cease To Fight; Prayer Keeps The Christian's Armor Bright; And Satan Trembles When He Sees The Weakest Saint Upon His Knees.

An Epigram Is But A Feeble Thing - With Straw In Tail, Stuck There By Way Of Sting.