A Legal Broom's A Moral Chimney-sweeper, And

I Cannot Conceive Why People Will Always Mix Up My Own Character And Opinions With Those Of The Imaginary Beings Which, As A Poet, I Have The Right And Liberty To Draw.

Think'st Thou There Is No Tyranny But That Of Blood And Chains? The Despotism Of Vice-- The Weakness And The Wickedness Of Luxury-- The Negligence--the Apathy--the Evils Of Sensual Sloth--produces Ten Thousand Tyrants, Whose Delegated Cruelty Surpasses The Worst Acts Of One Energetic Master, However Harsh And Hard In His Own Bearing.

Gone, Glimmering Through The Dream Of Things That Were.

For Pleasures Past I Do Not Grieve, Nor Perils Gathering Near; My Greatest Grief Is That I Leave Nothing That Claims A Tear.

Which Cheers The Sad, Revives The Old, Inspires The Young, Makes Weariness Forget His Toil, And Fear Her Danger; Opens A New World When This, The Present, Palls.