Tis The Times' Plague, When Madmen Lead

O Father Abram, What These Christians Are, Whose Own Hard Dealing Teaches Them Suspect The Thoughts Of Others!

Behold The Threaden Sails, Borne With The Invisible And Creeping Wind, Draw The Huge Bottoms Through The Furrow'd Sea, Breasting The Lofty Surge

Haply A Woman's Voice May Do Some Good When Articles Too Nicely Urged Be Stood On.

Merrily, Merrily Shall I Live Now, Under The Blossom That Hangs On The Bough.

Fortune Reigns In Gifts Of The World.