Opinions Are Made To Be Changed Or

Till Taught By Pain, Men Know Not Water's Worth.

For Through The South The Custom Still Commands The Gentleman To Kiss The Lady's Hands.

Between Two Worlds Life Hovers Like A Star, Twixt Night And Morn, Upon The Horizon's Verge.

Near This Spot Are Deposited The Remains Of One Who Possessed Beauty Without Vanity, Strength Without Insolence, Courage Without Ferocity, And All The Virtues Of Man, Without His Vices. This Praise, Which Would Be Unmeaning Flattery If Inscribed Over Human Ashes, Is But A Just Tribute To The Memory Of Botswain, A Dog.

Oh That The Desert Were My Dwelling-place, With One Fair Spirit For My Minister