Pleased to the last, he crops the flowery food, And licks the hand just raised to shed his blood.
Yes, I am proud; I must be proud to see Men not afraid of God, afraid of me.
How happy is the blameless vestal's lot? The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
chaos of thought and passion, all confus'd.
The scripture in times of disputes is like an open town in times of war, which serves in differently the occasions of both parties.
On cold December fragrant chaplets blow, And heavy harvests nod beneath the snow.