Misery Still Delights To Trace Its Semblance

Thieves At Home Must Hang; But He That Puts Into His Overgorged And Bloated Purse The Wealth Of Indian Provinces, Escapes.

Unless A Love Of Virtue Light The Flame, Satire Is, More Than Those He Brands, To Blame; He Hides Behind A Magisterial Air He Own Offences, And Strips Others' Bare.

Did Charity Prevail, The Press Would Prove A Vehicle Of Virtue, Truth, And Love.

Then Liberty, Like Day, Breaks On The Soul, And By A Flash From Heaven Fires All The Faculties With Glorious Joy.

No Man Can Be A Patriot On An Empty Stomach.