But Honest Instinct Comes A Volunteer; Sure

Our Passions Are Like Convulsion Fits, Which, Though They Make Us Stronger For A Time, Leave Us The Weaker Ever After.

Fix'd Like A Plant On His Peculiar Spot, To Draw Nutrition, Propagate And Rot.

A King May Be A Tool, A Thing Of Straw; But If He Serves To Frighten Our Enemies, And Secure Our Property, It Is Well Enough; A Scarecrow Is A Thing Of Straw, But It Protects The Corn.

Now Warm In Love, Now With'ring In My Bloom Lost In A Convent's Solitary Gloom!

Still When The Lust Of Tyrant Power Succeeds, Some Athens Perishes, Or Some Tully Bleeds.