Health Consists With Temperance Alone.

So Man, Who Here Seems Principal Alone, Perhaps Acts Second To Some Sphere Unknown Touches Some Wheel, Or Verges To Some Goal; 'tis But A Part We See, And Not A Whole.

And More Than Echoes Talk Along The Walls.

Here Hills And Vales, The Woodland And The Plain Here Earth And Water Seem To Strive Again, Not Chaos-like Together Crushed And Bruised, But, As The World, Harmoniously Confused: Where Order In Variety We See, And Where, Though All Things Differ, All Agree.

Truth Shines The Brighter, Clad In Verse.

The Spider's Touch, How Exquisitely Fine! Feels At Each Thread, And Lives Along The Line.