Bright-eyed Fancy, Hov'ring O'er, Scatters From Her

Man's Feeble Race What Ills Await! Labour, And Penury, The Racks Of Pain, Disease, And Sorrow's Weeping Train, And Death, Sad Refuge From The Storms Of Fate!

To Brisk Notes In Cadence Beating, Glance Their Many-twinkling Feet.

For Who, To Dumb Forgetfulness A Prey, This Pleasing Anxious Being E'er Resign'd, Left The Warm Precincts Of The Cheerful Day, Nor Cast One Longing Ling'ring Look Behind?

The Different Steps And Degrees Of Education May Be Compared To The Artificer's Operations Upon Marble; It Is One Thing To Dig It Out Of The Quarry, And Another To Square It, To Give It Gloss And Lustre, Call Forth Every Beautiful Spot And Vein, Shape It Into A Column, Or Animate It Into A Statue.

Far From The Madding Crowd's Ignoble Strife Their Sober Wishes Never Learn'd To Stray; Along The Cool Sequester'd Vale Of Life They Kept The Noiseless Tenor Of Their Way.