No Retreat. No Retreat. They

Were I Laid On Greenland's Coast, And In My Arms Embrac'd My Lass; Warm Amidst Eternal Frost, Too Soon The Half Year's Night Would Pass.

Lest Men Suspect Your Tale Untrue, Keep Probability In View.

Praising All Alike, Is Praising None.

Breathe Soft, Ye Winds! Ye Waves, In Silence Sleep!

Shall Ignorance Of Good And Ill Dare To Direct The Eternal Will? Seek Virtue, And Of That Possest, To Providence Resign The Rest.