Nothing Is More Completely The Child Of

Commend Me To Sterling Honesty Though Clad In Rags.

On His Bold Visage Middle Age Had Slightly Press'd Its Signet Sage, Yet Had Not Quench'd The Open Truth And Fiery Vehemence Of Youth: Forward And Frolic Glee Was There, The Will To Do, The Soul To Dare.

And Love Is Loveliest When Embalm'd In Tears.

Each Age Has Deemed The New-born Year The Fittest Time For Festal Cheer.

Look Not Thou On Beauty's Charming; Sit Thou Still When Kings Are Arming; Taste Not When The Wine-cup Glistens; Speak Not When The People Listens