What We Admire We Praise;

The Still Small Voice Is Wanted.

Where Penury Is Felt The Thought Is Chain'd, And Sweet Colloquial Pleasures Are But Few.

Detested Sport, That Owes Its Pleasures To Another's Pain.

If Hindrances Obstruct The Way, Thy Magnanimity Display. And Let Thy Strength Be Seen: But O, If Fortune Fill Thy Sail With More Than A Propitious Gale, Take Half Thy Canvas In.

But What Is Truth? 'twas Pilate's Question Put To Truth Itself, That Deign'd Him No Reply.