Who Often Reads, Will Sometimes

In Idle Wishes, Fools Supinely Stay. Be There A Will And Wisdom Finds A Way.

Feel You The Barren Flattery Of A Rhyme? Can Poets Soothe You, When You Pine For Bread, By Winding Myrtle Round Your Ruin'd Shed?

Let's Learn To Live, For We Must Die Alone.

All Green Was Anished Sae Of Pine And Yew, That Still Displayed Their Melancholy Hue; Sae The Green Holly With Its Berries Red, And The Green Moss That O'er The Grael Spread.

The Coward Never On Himself Relies, But To An Equal For Assistance Flies.