Lived In His Saddle, Loved The Chase,

Nor Rural Sights Alone, But Rural Sounds, Exhilirate The Spirit, And Restore The Tone Of Languid Nature.

Time, As He Passes Us, Has A Dove's Wing, Unsoil'd, And Swift, And Of A Silken Sound.

It Is A General Rule Of Judgment, That A Mischief Should Rather Be Admitted Than An Inconvenience.

Could He With Reason Murmur At His Case, Himself Sole Author Of His Own Disgrace?

Nature Is A Good Name For An Effect Whose Cause Is God.