Hope Travels Through, Nor Quits Us When

The Mouse That Always Trusts To One Poor Hole Can Never Be A Mouse Of Any Soul.

All Nature Mourns, The Skies Relent In Showers; Hushed Are The Birds, And Closed The Drooping Flowers.

He Best Can Paint Them Who Shall Feel Them Most.

Live Like Yourself, Was Soon My Lady's Word, And Lo! Two Puddings Smok'd Upon The Board.

Death, Only Death, Can Break The Lasting Chain; And Here, Ev'n Then, Shall My Cold Dust Remain