A Glory Gilds The Sacred

Pity! Religion Has So Seldom Found A Skilful Guide Into Poetic Ground! The Flowers Would Spring Where'er She Deign'd To Stray And Every Muse Attend Her In Her Way.

Lived In His Saddle, Loved The Chase, The Course, And Always, Ere He Mounted, Kiss'd His Horse.

I Am Out Of Humanity's Reach.

Misses! The Tale That I Relate This Lesson Seems To Carry-- Choose Not Alone A Proper Mate, But Proper Time To Marry.

But Truths On Which Depends Our Main Concern, That 'tis Our Shame And Misery Not To Learn, Shine By The Side Of Every Path We Tread With Such A Lustre He That Runs May Read.