Jealousy Is The Jaundice Of The Soul.

For Art May Err, But Nature Cannot Miss.

There's A Proud Modesty In Merit; Averse From Asking, And Resolved To Pay Ten Times The Gifts It Asks.

The Scum That Rises Upmost, When The Nation Boils.

Fame Then Was Cheap, And The First Comer Sped; And They Have Kept It Since By Being Dead.

Time And Death Shall Depart And Say In Flying Love Has Found Out A Way To Live, By Dying.