Daughter Of Jove, Relentless Power, Thou Tamer

Beyond The Limits Of A Vulgar Fate, Beneath The Good How Far,-but Far Above The Great.

Chill Penury Repress'd Their Noble Rage, And Froze The Genial Current Of The Soul.

E'en From The Tomb The Voice Of Nature Cries, E'en In Our Ashes Live Their Wonted Fires.

To Contemplation's Sober Eye, Such Is The Race Of Man; And They That Creep, And They That Fly, Shall End Where They Began, Alike The Busy And The Gay, But Flutter Through Life's Little Day.

Scatter Plenty O'er A Smiling Land.