When our perils are past, shall our gratitude sleep?
Indecision and delays are the parents of failure.
There is nothing I know of so sublime as a fact.
Intimately concerned as we are with the system of Europe, it does not follow that we are therefore called upon to mix ourselves onevery occasion, with a restless and meddling activity, in the concerns of the nations which surround us.
So down thy hill, romantic Ashbourn, glides The Derby dilly, carrying three INSIDES.
Needy knife-grinder! whither are ye going? Rough is the road, your wheel is out of order; Bleak blows the blast-your hat has got a hole in it. So have your breeches.