Do Good By Stealth, And Blush To

Fool, 'tis In Vain From Wit To Wit To Roam: Know, Sense, Like Charity, Begins At Home.

But Would You Sing, And Rival Orpheus' Strain. The Wond'ring Forests Soon Should Dance Again; The Moving Mountains Hear The Powerful Call. And Headlong Streams Hand Listening In Their Fall!

Pretty Conceptions, Fine Metaphors, Glittering Expressions, And Something Of A Neat Cast Of Verse Are Properly The Dress, Gems, Or Loose Ornaments Of Poetry.

And Not A Vanity Is Given In Vain.

Cavil You May, But Never Criticise.