And Truth Severe, By Fairy Fiction Drest.

Far From The Madding Crowd's Ignoble Strife Their Sober Wishes Never Learn'd To Stray; Along The Cool Sequester'd Vale Of Life They Kept The Noiseless Tenor Of Their Way.

A Fav'rite Has No Friend!

Alas, Regardless Of Their Doom, The Little Victims Play! No Sense Have They Of Ills To Come Nor Care Beyond Today.

Rich With The Spoils Of Time.

Hands That The Rod Of Empire Might Have Sway'd, Or Waked To Ecstasy The Living Lyre.