There Is In Souls A Sympathy With

They Whom Truth And Wisdom Lead, Can Gather Honey From A Weed.

Where Thou Art Gone, Adieus And Farewells Are A Sound Unknown.

There Is A Mixture Of Evil In Everything We Do; Indulgence Encourages Us To Encroach, While We Crabbe Exercise The Rights Of Children, We Become Childish.

We Sacrifice To Dress Till Household Joys And Comforts Cease. Dress Drains Our Cellar Dry, And Keeps Our Larder Lean.

Dejection Of Spirits, Which May Have Prevented Many A Man From Becoming An Author, Made Me One. I Find Constant Employment Necessary, And Therefore Take Care To Be Constantly Employed. . . . When I Can Find No Other Occupation, I Think; And When I Think, I Am Very Apt To Do It In Rhyme.