An Obstinate Person Does Not Hold Opinions;

There Is A Certain Majesty In Simplicity Which Is Far Above All The Quaintness Of Wit.

The Dull Flat Falsehood Serves For Policy, And In The Cunning, Truth's Itself A Lie.

Nothing Can Be More Shocking And Horrid Than One Of Our Kitchens Sprinkled With Blood, And Abounding With The Cries Of Expiring Victims Or With The Limbs Of Dead Animals Scattered Or Hung Up Here And There.

But Would You Sing, And Rival Orpheus' Strain. The Wond'ring Forests Soon Should Dance Again; The Moving Mountains Hear The Powerful Call. And Headlong Streams Hand Listening In Their Fall!

Our Plenteous Streams A Various Race Supply, The Bright-eyed Perch With Fins Of Tyrian Dye, The Silver Eel, In Shining Volumes Roll'd, The Yellow Carp, In Scales Bedropp'd With Gold, Swift Trouts, Diversified With Crimson Stains, And Pikes, The Tyrants Of The Wat'ry Plains.