The Scum That Rises Upmost,

He With A Graceful Pride, While His Rider Every Hand Survey'd, Sprung Loose, And Flew Into An Escapade; Not Moving Forward, Yet With Every Bound Pressing, And Seeming Still To Quit His Ground.

And That One Hunting, Which The Devil Design'd For One Fair Female, Lost Him Half The Kind.

Like Pilgrims To Th' Appointed Place We Tend; The World's An Inn, And Death The Journey's End.

Take Not Away The Life You Cannot Give: For All Things Have An Equal Right To Live.

More Liberty Begets Desire Of More; The Hunger Still Increases With The Store