Such Is The Patriot's Boast, Where'er We

An Englishman Fears Contempt More Than Death.

Were I To Be Angry At Men Being Fools, I Could Here Find Ample Room For Declamation; But, Alas! I Have Been A Fool Myself; And Why Should I Be Angry With Them For Being Something So Natural To Every Child Of Humanity?

If The Soul Be Happily Disposed, Every Thing Becomes Capable Of Affording Entertainment, And Distress Will Almost Want A Name.

And As A Bird Each Fond Endearment Tries To Tempt Its New-fledg'd Offspring To The Skies, He Tried Each Art, Reprov'd Each Dull Delay, Allur'd To Brighter Worlds, And Led The Way.

Tenderness Is A Virtue.