Sure There Is None But Fears A

Not To Ask Is Not Be Denied.

I Strongly Wish For What I Faintly Hope; Like The Daydreams Of Melancholy Men, I Think And Think In Things Impossible, Yet Love To Wander In That Golden Maze.

The Poorest Of The Sex Have Still An Itch To Know Their Fortunes, Equal To The Rich. The Dairy-maid Inquires, If She Shall Take The Trusty Tailor, And The Cook Forsake.

I Saw Myself The Lambent Easy Light Gild The Brown Horror, And Dispel The Night.

Government Itself At Length Must Fall To Nature's State, Where All Have Right To All.