No, I'm No Enemy To Learning; It

Love's But The Frailty Of The Mind, When 'tis Not With Ambition Joined; A Sickly Flame, Which If Not Fed Expires; And Feeding, Wastes In Self-consuming Fires.

I Know That’s A Secret, For It’s Whispered Everywhere.

I Came Up Stairs Into The World, For I Was Born In A Cellar.

How Hard A Thing 'twould Be To Please You All.

Defer Not Till To-morrow To Be Wise, To-morrow's Sun To Thee May Never Rise; Or Should To-morrow Chance To Cheer Thy Sight With Her Enlivening And Unlook'd For Light, How Grateful Will Appear Her Dawning Rays! As Favours Unexpected Doubly Please.