Every harlot was a virgin once.

The Angel that presided o'er my birth Said, 'Little creature, formed of joy and mirth, Go love without the help of any thing on earth'.

Without minute neatness of execution, the sublime cannot exist! Grandeur of ideas is founded on precision of ideas.

[L]et light Rise from the chambers of the east, and bring The honey'd dew that cometh on waking day. O radiant morning.

Every thing possible to be believ'd is an image of truth.

I'm sure this Jesus will not do Either for Englishman or Jew.

But if at church they would give some ale. And a pleasant fire our souls to regale. We'd sing and we'd pray all the live long day, Nor ever once from the church to stray.