For Those Whom God To Ruin Has

He Wants Worth Who Dares Not Praise A Foe.

Present Joys Are More To Flesh And Blood Than A Dull Prospect Of A Distant Good.

Damn'd Neuters, In Their Middle Way Of Steering, Are Neither Fish, Nor Flesh, Nor Good Red Herring.

Thus, While The Mute Creation Downward Bend Their Sight, And To Their Earthly Mother Ten, Man Looks Aloft; And With Erected Eyes Beholds His Own Hereditary Skies.

At Home The Hateful Names Of Parties Cease, And Factious Souls Are Wearied Into Peace.