Seas Roll To Waft Me, Suns To

An Atheist Is But A Mad, Ridiculous Derider Of Piety, But A Hypocrite Makes A Sober Jest Of God And Religion; He Finds It Easier To Be Upon His Knees Than To Rise To A Good Action.

Love, Free As Air, At Sight Of Human Ties, Spreads His Light Wings, And In A Moment Flies.

Where London's Column, Pointing At The Skies, Like A Tall Bully, Lifts The Head, And Lies.

The Lot Of Man - To Suffer And To Die.

On Cold December Fragrant Chaplets Blow, And Heavy Harvests Nod Beneath The Snow.