The Man Hath Penance Done, And Penance

Joy Rises In Me, Like A Summer's Morn.

We Are Now Courts Of Equity, And Must Decide The Thing According To All The Rights.

Poetry Is Certainly Something More Than Good Sense, But It Must Be Good Sense, At All Events, Just As A Palace Is More Than A House, But It Must Be A House, At Least.

Trochee Trips From Long To Short; From Long To Long In Solemn Sort Slow Spondee Stalks.

Guilt Is A Timorous Thing Ere Perpetration; Despair Alone Makes Guilty Men Be Bold.