When Falls The Coliseum, Rome

Tis The Perception Of The Beautiful, A Fine Extension Of The Faculties, Platonic, Universal, Wonderful, Drawn From The Stars, And Filtered Through The Skies, Without Which Life Would Be Extremely Dull

Her Great Merit Is Finding Out Mine; There Is Nothing So Amiable As Discernment.

In Solitude, Where We Are Least Alone.

If We Must Have A Tyrant, Let Him At Least Be A Gentleman Who Has Been Bred To The Business, And Let Us Fall By The Axe And Not By The Butcher's Cleaver.

So Sweet The Blush Of Bashfulness, E'en Pity Scarce Can Wish It Less!