A Man May Be Ungrateful, But The

The Redundant Locks, Robustious To No Purpose, Clustering Down--vast Monument Of Strength.

In The Sweat Of Thy Face Thou Shalt Eat Bread, Till Thou Return Unto The Ground; For Thou Out Of The Ground Wast Taken; Know Thy Birth, For Dust Thou Art, And Shalt To Dust Return.

Beholding The Bright Countenance Of Truth In The Quiet And Still Air Of Delightful Studies.

Retiring From The Popular Noise, I Seek This Unfrequented Place To Find Some Ease.

Revenge, At First Though Sweet, Bitter Ere Long Back On Itself Recoils.