There Are Certain Scenes That Would Awe

I Shall Be But A Shrimp Of An Author.

Here Rests His Head Upon The Lap Of Earth, A Youth To Fortune And To Fame Unknown: Fair Science Frown'd Not On His Humble Birth, And Melancholy Mark'd Him For Her Own.

Low On His Funeral Couch He Lies!

Not All That Tempts Your Wandering Eyes And Heedless Hearts, Is Lawful Prize; Nor All That Glisters Gold.

Nor Grandeur Hear With A Disdainful Smile The Short And Simple Annals Of The Poor.