Misery Still Delights To Trace Its Semblance

Remorse Begets Reform.

Me Howling Blasts Drive Devious, Tempest-tossed, / Sails Ripped, Seams Opening Wide, And Compass Lost.

The Man That Hails You Tom Or Jack, And Proves By Thumps Upon Your Back How He Esteems Your Merit, Is Such A Friend, That One Had Need Be Very Much His Friend Indeed To Pardon Or To Bear It.

Fancy, Like The Finger Of A Clock, Runs The Great Circuit, And Is Still At Home.

The Man That Dares Traduce, Because He Can With Safety To Himself, Is Not A Man.