An Obstinate Person Does Not Hold Opinions;

See The Wild Waste Of All-devouring Years! How Rome Her Own Sad Sepulchre Appears, With Nodding Arches, Broken Temples Spread! The Very Tombs Now Vanish'd Like Their Dead!

True Friendship's Laws Are By This Rule Express'd, Welcome The Coming, Speed The Parting Guest.

Why Did I Write? What Sin To Me Unknown Dipped Me In Ink, My Parents , Or My Own?

One Thought Of Thee Puts All The Pomp To Flight; Priests, Tapers, Temples, Swim Before My Sight.

Heaven Forming Each On Other To Depend, A Master, Or A Servant, Or A Friend, Bids Each On Other For Assistance Call, Till One Man's Weakness Grows The Strength Of All.