You gain your point if your industrious art can make unusual words easy.
Truth and fiction are so aptly mixed that all seems uniform and of a piece.
Words are like leaves; some wither every year, and every year a younger race succeed.
Praise Him, each savage furious beast That on His stores do daily feast; And you tame slaves, of the laborious plough, Your weary knees to your Creator bow.
Sound judgment is the ground of writing well.
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