But Monument Themselves Memorials Need.

And Took For Truth The Test Of Ridicule.

Shall He Who Soars, Inspired By Loftier Views, Life's Little Cares And Little Pains Refuse? Shall He Not Rather Feel A Double Share Of Mortal Woe, When Doubly Arm'd To Bear?

Books Cannot Always Please, However Good; Minds Are Not Ever Craving For Their Food.

Through The Sharp Air A Flaky Torrent Flies, Mocks The Slow Sight, And Hides The Gloomy Skies; The Fleecy Clouds Their Chilly Bosoms Bare, And Shed Their Substance On The Floating Air.

The Gentle Fair On Nervous Tea Relies, Whilst Gay Good-nature Sparkles In Her Eyes; An Inoffensive Scandal Fluttering Round, Too Rough To Tickle, And Too Light To Wound.