And Make Each Day A Critic On

Intestine War No More Our Passions Wage, And Giddy Factions Bear Away Their Rage.

See Plastic Nature Working To This End, The Single Atoms Each To Other Tend, Attract, Attracted To, The Next In Place Form'd And Impell'd Its Neighbor To Embrace.

Age And Want Sit Smiling At The Gate.

Where London's Column, Pointing At The Skies, Like A Tall Bully, Lifts The Head, And Lies.

Who Know But He, Whose Hand The Lightning Forms, Who Heaves Old Ocean, And Who Wings The Storms, Pours Fierce Ambition In A Caesar's Mind.