There Still Remains To Mortify A Wit

Then, At The Last And Only Couplet Fraught With Some Unmeaning Thing They Call A Thought, A Needless Alexandrine Ends The Song, That, Like A Wounded Snake, Drags Its Slow Length Along.

Education Forms The Common Mind. Just As The Twig Is Bent, The Tree's Inclined.

Ladies, Like Variegated Tulips, Show 'tis To Their Changes Half Their Charms We Owe.

Hope Travels Through, Nor Quits Us When We Die.

How Do We Know That We Have A Right To Kill Creatures That We Are So Little Above, As Dogs, For Our Curiosity Or Even For Some Use To Us?