Fancy, Like The Finger Of A Clock,

What We Admire We Praise; And When We Praise, Advance It Into Notice, That Its Worth Acknowledged, Others May Admire It Too.

Strength May Wield The Ponderous Spade, May Turn The Clod, And Wheel The Compost Home; But Elegance, Chief Grace The Garden Shows, And Most Attractive, Is The Fair Result Of Thought, The Creature Of A Polished Mind.

This Cabin, Mary, In My Sight Appears, Built As It Has Been In Our Waning Years, A Rest Afforded To Our Weary Feet, Preliminary To - The Last Retreat.

Some Write A Narrative Of Wars And Feats, Of Heroes Little Known, And Call The Rant A History.

Ceremony Leads Her Bigots Forth, Prepared To Fight For Shadows Of No Worth. While Truths, On Which Eternal Things Depend, Can Hardly Find A Single Friend.