A Man He Was To

A Man He Was To All The Country Dear, And Passing Rich With Forty Pounds A Year.

To A Philosopher No Circumstance, However Trifling, Is Too Minute.

The Hours We Pass With Happy Prospects In View Are More Pleasing Than Those Crowded With Fruition.

Nobody With Me At Sea But Myself.

So The Loud Torrent, And The Whirlwind's Roar, But Bind Him To His Native Mountains More.