Our Friends Don't See Our Faults, Or

Love Is A Second Life.

Who Rant By Note, And Through The Gamut Rage; In Songs And Airs Express Their Martial Fire; Combat In Trills, And In A Fugue Expire.

It Is Ridiculous For Any Man To Criticize On The Works Of Another, Who Has Not Distinguished Himself By His Own Performances.

True Benevolence Or Compassion, Extends Itself Through The Whole Of Existence And Sympathizes With The Distress Of Every Creature Capable Of Sensation.

Laughter, While It Lasts, Slackens And Unbraces The Mind, Weakens The Faculties, And Causes A Kind Of Remissness And Dissolution In All The Powers Of The Soul.