In Man's Most Dark Extremity Oft Succour

In Prosperous Times I Have Sometimes Felt My Fancy And Powers Of Language Flag, But Adversity Is To Me At Least A Tonic And Bracer.

What Is A Diary As A Rule? A Document Useful To The Person Who Keeps It. Dull To The Contemporary Who Reads It And Invaluable To The Student, Centuries Afterwards, Who Treasures It.

A Sinful Heart Makes Feeble Hand.

I Am She, O Most Bucolical Juvenal, Under Whose Charge Are Placed The Milky Mothers Of The Herd.

Call It Not Vain: They Do Not Err Who Say That When The Poet Dies Mute Nature Mourns Her Worshipper, And Celebrates His Obsequies.