The Art Of Angling, The Cruelest, The

This Sort Of Adoration Of The Real Is But A Heightening Of The Beau Ideal.

The Simple Wordsworth . . . / Who, Both By Precept And Example, Shows / That Prose Is Verse, And Verse Is Merely Prose.

There Is No Instinct Like That Of The Heart.

The Dew Of Compassion Is A Tear.

Critics Are Already Made.