Farewell! If Ever Fondest Prayer For Other's

I Have Not Loved The World, Nor The World Me.

What Is Death, So It Be But Glorious? 'tis A Sunset; And Mortals May Be Happy To Resemble The Gods But In Decay.

And The Commencement Of Atonement Is The Sense Of Its Necessity.

As Soon Seek Roses In December, Ice In June, Hope Constancy In Wind, Or Corn In Chaff Believe A Woman Or An Epitaph Or Any Other Thing That’s False Before You Trust In Critics.

Yet Truth Will Sometimes Lend Her Noblest Fires, And Decorate The Verse Herself Inspires: This Fact, In Virtue's Name, Let Crabbe Attest,- Though Nature's Sternest Painter, Yet The Best.