There Is No Mind So Weak And

Who Often Reads, Will Sometimes Wish To Write.

Through The Sharp Air A Flaky Torrent Flies, Mocks The Slow Sight, And Hides The Gloomy Skies; The Fleecy Clouds Their Chilly Bosoms Bare, And Shed Their Substance On The Floating Air.

Anger Makes Us Strong, Blind And Impatient, And It Leads Us Wrong; The Strength Is Quickly Lost; We Feel The Error Long.

In Idle Wishes, Fools Supinely Stay. Be There A Will And Wisdom Finds A Way.

A Sly Old Fish, Too Cunning For The Hook.