Whatever Be The Motives Which Induce Men

When Lovely Woman Stoops To Folly, And Finds Too Late That Men Betray, What Charm Can Soothe Her Melancholy, What Art Can Wash Her Guilt Away?

The First Blow Is Half The Battle.

And Still They Gazed, And Still The Wonder Grew, That One Small Head Could Carry All He Knew.

No Vernal Blooms Their Torpid Rocks Array, But Winter Lingering Chills The Lap Of May; No Zephyr Fondly Sues The Mountain's Breast, But Meteors Glare, And Stormy Glooms Invest.

Death When Unmasked Shows Us A Friendly Face And Is A Terror Only At A Distance.