The Seeming Truth Which Cunning Times Put

Why, Universal Plodding Poisons Up The Nimble Spirits In The Arteries, As Motion And Long-during Action Tires The Sinewy Vigor Of The Traveller.

And, Looking On It With Lack-lustre Eye, Says Very Wisely, "it Is Ten O'clock: Thus We May See," Quoth He, "how The World Wags."

Tis But A Base, Ignoble Mind That Mounts No Higher Than A Bird Can Soar.

You Cannot Make Gross Sins Look Clear: To Revenge Is No Valour, But To Bear.

For What Is Wedlock Forced But A Hell, An Age Of Discord And Continual Strife? Whereas The Contrary Bringeth Bliss, And Is A Pattern Of Celestial Peace.