Both Wit And Understanding Are Trifles Without

Near Yonder Thorn, That Lifts Its Head On High, Where Once The Sign-post Caught The Passing Eye, Low Lies That House Where Nut-brown Draughts Inspired, Where Graybeard Mirth And Smiling Toil Retired, Where Village Statesmen Talk'd With Looks Profound, And News Much Older Than Their Ale Went Round.

He Cast Off His Friends As A Huntsman His Pack, For He Knew When He Pleas'd He Could Whistle Them Back.

Her Modest Looks The Cottage Might Adorn, Sweet As The Primrose Peeps Beneath The Thorn.

The Ambitious Are Forever Followed By Adulation For They Receive The Most Pleasure From Flattery.

Those Who Think Must Govern Those That Toil.