To Endeavor To Work Upon The Vulgar

Let Opening Roses Knotted Oaks Adorn, And Liquid Amber Drop From Every Thorn.

Fickle Fortune Reigns, And, Undiscerning, Scatters Crowns And Chains.

And Seem To Walk On Wings, And Tread In Air.

Atheists Put On False Courage And Alacrity In The Midst Of Their Darkness And Apprehensions, Like Children Who, When They Fear To Go In The Dark, Will Sing For Fear.

Here Am I, Dying Of A Hundred Good Symptoms.