In Indolent Vacuity Of Thought.

Man Disavows, And Deity Disowns Me: Hell Might Afford My Miseries A Shelter; Therefore Hell Keeps Her Ever-hungry Mouths All Bolted Against Me.

There Is Mercy In Every Place. And Mercy, Encouraging Thought Gives Even Affliction A Grace And Reconciles Man To His Lot.

Still Ending, And Beginning Still.

To Follow Foolish Precedents, And Wink With Both Our Eyes, Is Easier Than To Think.

A Man Renowned For Repartee Will Seldom Scruple To Make Free With Friendship's Finest Feeling, Will Thrust A Dagger At Your Breast, And Say He Wounded You In Jest, By Way Of Balm For Healing.