Laws Grind The Poor, And Rich Men

He Watched And Wept And Prayed And Felt For All

Alas! The Joys That Fortune Brings Are Trifling, And Decay, And Those Who Prize The Trifling Things, More Trifling Still Than They.

I Have Visited Many Countries, And Have Been In Cities Without Number, Yet Never Did I Enter A Town Which Could Not Produce Ten Or Twelve Little Great Men; All Fancying Themselves Known To The Rest Of The World, And Complimenting Each Other Upon Their Extensive Reputation.

To The Last Moment Of His Breath, On Hope The Wretch Relies; And Even The Pang Preceding Death Bids Expectation Rise.

Thus Let Me Hold Thee To My Heart, And Every Care Resign: And We Shall Never, Never Part, My Life-my All That's Mine!