Unthought-of Frailties Cheat Us In The Wise.

Then Marble, Soften'd Into Life, Grew Warm.

Fix'd Like A Plant On His Peculiar Spot, To Draw Nutrition, Propagate And Rot.

Is That A Birthday? 'tis, Alas! Too Clear; 'tis But The Funeral Of The Former Year.

What Riches Give Us Let Us Then Inquire: Meat, Fire, And Clothes. What More? Meat, Clothes, And Fire. Is This Too Little?

Consult The Genius Of The Place, That Paints As You Plant, And As You Work.