And Better Had They Ne'er Been Born,

The Willow Which Bends To The Tempest Often Escapes Better Than The Oak Which Resists It.

What Various Scenes, And O! What Scenes Of Woe, Are Witness'd By That Red And Struggling Beam! The Fever'd Patient, From His Pallet Low, Through Crowded Hospitals Beholds It Stream; The Ruined Maiden Trembles At Its Gleam, The Debtor Wakes To Thought Of Gyve And Jail, The Love-lorn Wretch Starts From Tormenting Dream; The Wakeful Mother, By The Glimmering Pale, Trims Her Sick Infant's Couch, And Soothes His Feeble Wail.

For Monarchs Seldom Sigh In Vain.

Oh, Poverty Parts Good Company.

Fair Play Is A Jewel.