The Tigers Of Wrath Are Wiser Than

Angels Are Happier Than Men And Devils, Because They Are Not Always Prying After Good And Evil In One Another, And Eating The Tree Of Knowledge For Satan's Gratification.

I Wander Thro' Each Charter'd Street, Near Where The Charter'd Thames Does Flow, And Mark In Every Face I Meet Marks Of Weakness, Marks Of Woe. In Every Cry Of Every Man, In Every Infant's Cry Of Fear, In Every Voice, In Every Ban, The Mind-forg'd Manacles I Hear. How The Chimney-sweeper's Cry Every Black'ning Church Appalls; And The Hapless Soldier's Sigh Runs In Blood Down Palace Walls. But Most Thro' Midnight Streets I Hear How The Youthful Harlot's Curse Blasts The New Born Infant's Tear, And Blights With Plagues The Marriage Hearse.

Drive Your Cart And Plow Over The Bones Of The Dead.

Fun I Love, But Too Much Fun Is Of All Things The Most Loathsome. Mirth Is Better Than Fun, And Happiness Is Better Than Mirth.

The Thankful Receiver Bears A Plentiful Harvest.