For Every Inch That Is Not Fool,

And Plenty Makes Us Poor.

Sure There's Contagion In The Tears Of Friends.

When We View Elevated Ideas Of Nature, The Result Of That View Is Admiration, Which Is Always The Cause Of Pleasure.

Raw In The Fields The Rude Militia Swarms, Mouth Without Hands; Maintained At Vast Expense, In Peace A Charge, In War A Weak Defence.

Ill News Is Wing'd With Fate, And Flies Apace.