To Follow Foolish Precedents, And Wink With

As Creeping Ivy Clings To Wood Or Stone, And Hides The Ruin That It Feeds Upon, So Sophistry, Cleaves Close To, And Protects Sin's Rotten Trunk, Concealing Its Defects.

And Hast Thou Sworn On Every Slight Pretence, Till Perjuries Are Common As Bad Pence, While Thousands, Careless Of The Damning Sin, Kiss The Book's Outside, Who Ne'er Look'd Within?

The Kindest And The Happiest Pair Will Find Occasion To Forbear; And Something, Every Day They Live, To Pity, And Perhaps Forgive.

We Turn To Dust, And All Our Mightiest Works Die Too.

What Peaceful Hours I Once Enjoy'd! How Sweet Their Memory Still! But They Have Left An Aching Void The World Can Never Fill.