If Happiness In Self-content Is Placed, The

Hannibal Was A Very Pretty Fellow In Those Days.

Guilt Is Ever At A Loss, And Confusion Waits Upon It; When Innocence And Bold Truth Are Always Ready For Expression.

I Hope You Do Not Think Me Prone To Any Iteration Of Nuptials.

Musick Has Charms To Sooth A Savage Breast...

Words Are The Weak Support Of Cold Indifference; Love Has No Language To Be Heard.