The Object Of Art Is To Give

A Little More Than Kin, And Less Than Kind.

Foul Cankering Rust The Hidden Treasure Frets, But Gold That's Put To Use More Gold Begets.

Tis In Ourselves That We Are Thus, Or Thus.

So Shows A Snowy Dove Trooping With Crows As Yonder Lady O'er Her Fellows Shows.

Unhappy That I Am, I Cannot Heave My Heart Into My Mouth.