On Cold December Fragrant Chaplets Blow, And

Silence! Coeval With Eternity! Thou Wert Ere Nature's Self Began To Be; Thine Was The Sway Ere Heaven Was Formed On Earth, Ere Fruitful Thought Conceived Creation's Birth.

Sickness Is A Sort Of Early Old Age; It Teaches Us A Diffidence In Our Earthly State.

Nature Made Every Fop To Plague His Brother, Just As One Beauty Mortifies Another.

It Is Observable That The Ladies Frequent Tragedies More Than Comedies; The Reason May Be, That In Tragedy Their Sex Is Deified And Adored, In Comedy Exposed And Ridiculed.

But To The World No Bugbear Is So Great, As Want Of Figure And A Small Estate.