Dreams Are Like Portraits; And

A Sly Old Fish, Too Cunning For The Hook.

Blest Be The Gracious Power, Who Taught Mankind To Stamp A Lasting Image Of The Mind! Beasts May Convey, And Tuneful Birds May Sing, Their Mutual Feelings, In The Opening Spring; But Man Alone Has Skill And Power To Send The Heart's Warm Dictates To The Distant Friend; 'tis His Alone To Please, Instruct, Advise Ages Remote, And Nations Yet To Rise.

Oh How The Passions, Insolent And Strong, Bear Our Weak Minds Their Rapid Course Along; Make Us The Madness Of Their Will Obey; Then Die And Leave Us To Our Griefs As Prey!

That All Men Would Be Cowards If They Dare, Some Men We Know Have Courage To Declare.

From Powerful Causes Spring The Empiric's Gains, Man's Love Of Life, His Weakness, And His Pains; These First Induce Him The Vile Trash To Try, Then Lend His Name, That Other Men May Buy.