A Man Is Always Afraid Of A

Give Me, Kind Heaven, A Private Station, A Mind Serene For Contemplation.

Twas When The Seas Were Roaring With Hollow Blasts Of Wind, A Damsel Lay Deploring, All On A Rock Reclined.

In Beauty Faults Conspicuous Grow; The Smallest Speck Is Seen On Snow.

Who Talks Much, Must Talk In Vain.

No Author Ever Spar'd A Brother.