When Love Could Teach A Monarch To

And Hie Him Home, At Evening's Close, To Sweet Repast And Calm Repose.

Ye Towers Of Julius, London's Lasting Shame, With Many A Foul And Midnight Murder Fed.

Large Was His Bounty, And His Soul Sincere, Heaven Did A Recompense As Largely Send: He Gave To Mis'ry (all He Had) A Tear, He Gained From Heav'n ('t Was All He Wish'd) A Friend.

Along The Cool Sequestered Vale Of Life, They Kept The Noiseless Tenour Of Their Way.

Poetry Is Thoughts That Breathe, And Words That Burn.