Nor Age So Eat Up My Invention.

Cursed Be The Hand That Made These Fatal Holes.

... By Indirections Find Directions Out.

And All This Day An Unaccustomed Spirit Lifts Me Above The Ground With Cheerful Thoughts.

We Must Follow, Not Force Providence.

Tis Often Seen Adoption Strives With Nature; And Choice Breeds A Native Slip To Us From Foreign Lands.