Books Are Not Seldom Talismans And Spells.

Accomplishments Have Taken Virtue's Place, And Wisdom Falls Before Exterior Grace.

Events Of All Sorts Creep Or Fly Exactly As God Pleases.

And Hast Thou Sworn On Every Slight Pretence, Till Perjuries Are Common As Bad Pence, While Thousands, Careless Of The Damning Sin, Kiss The Book's Outside, Who Ne'er Look'd Within?

Skins May Differ, But Affection Dwells In White And Black The Same.

Not To Understand A Treasure's Worth Till Time Has Stole Away The Slighted Good, Is Cause Of Half The Poverty We Feel, And Makes The World The Wilderness It Is.