The Gay Motes That People The Sunbeams.

The Debt Immense Of Endless Gratitude, So Burthensome, Still Paying, Still To Owe; Forgetful What From Him I Still Receivd, And Understood Not That A Grateful Mind By Owing Owes Not, But Still Pays, At Once Indebted And Dischargd; What Burden Then?

The Stars, That Nature Hung In Heaven, And Filled Their Lamps With Everlasting Oil, Give Due Light To The Misled And Lonely Traveller.

But Let My Due Feet Never Fail To Walk The Studious Cloisters Pale, And Love The High Embowed Roof, With Antique Pillars Massy Proof, And Storied Windows Richly Dight; Casting A Dim Religious Light.

A Poet Soaring In The High Reason Of His Fancies, With His Garland And Singing Robes About Him.

Let Her (truth) And Falsehood Grapple; Who Ever Knew Truth Put To The Worse In A Free And Open Encounter?