Satan Has His Companions, Fellow-devils, To Admire

I, A Miserable Wretch, Haunted By A Curse That Shut Up Every Avenue To Enjoyment.

But Her's Was The Misery Of Innocence, Which, Like A Cloud That Passes Over The Fair Moon, For A While Hides, But Cannot Tarnish Its Brightness.

A Lofty Sense Of Independence Is, In Man, The Best Privilege Of His Nature.

My Education Was Neglected, Yet I Was Passionately Fond Of Reading.

He Is Dead Who Called Me Into Being, And When I Shall Be No More The Very Remembrance Of Us Both Will Speedily Vanish.