Nor Grandeur Hear With A Disdainful Smile

Daughter Of Jove, Relentless Power, Thou Tamer Of The Human Breast, Whose Iron Scourge And Tort'ring Hour The Bad Affright, Afflict The Best!

Bright-eyed Fancy, Hov'ring O'er, Scatters From Her Pictured Urn Thoughts That Breathe And Words That Burn.

Alas, Regardless Of Their Doom, The Little Victims Play! No Sense Have They Of Ills To Come Nor Care Beyond Today.

If The Best Man's Faults Were Written On His Forehead, He Would Draw His Hat Over His Eyes.

But Knowledge To Their Eyes Her Ample Page Rich With The Spoils Of Time Did Ne'er Unroll; Chill Penury Repressed Their Noble Rage, And Froze The Genial Current Of The Soul.