Whoe'er He Be That Tells My Faults,

Soft Is The Strain When Zephyr Gently Blows.

On Her White Breast A Sparkling Cross She Wore, Which Jews Might Kiss And Infidels Adore.

Vices And Virtues Are Of A Strange Nature, For The More We Have, The Fewer We Think We Have.

But Just Disease To Luxury Succeeds, And Ev'ry Death Its Own Avenger Breeds.

It Often Happens That Those Are The Best People Whose Characters Have Been Most Injured By Slanderers: As We Usually Find That To Be The Sweetest Fruit Which The Birds Have Been Picking At.