For Thee I Dim These Eye And

Old Men, For The Most Part, Are Like Old Chronicles That Give You Dull But True Accounts Of Times Past, And Are Worth Knowing Only On That Score.

Interspersed In Lawn And Opening Glades, Thin Trees Arise That Shun Each Others' Shades.

The Sound Must Seem An Echo To The Sense.

Fools Admire, But Men Of Sense Approve.

I Am Satisfied To Trifle Away My Time, Rather Than Let It Stick By Me.