A Sound Head, An Honest

O, What A Tangled Web We Weave When First We Practise To Deceive!

We Often Praise The Evening Clouds, And Tints So Gay And Bold, But Seldom Think Upon Our God, Who Tinged These Clouds With Gold.

When True Friends Meet In Adverse Hour; 'tis Like A Sunbeam Through A Shower. A Watery Way An Instant Seen, The Darkly Closing Clouds Between.

Ridicule, The Weapon Of All Others Most Feared By Enthusiasts Of Every Description, And Which From Its Predominance Over Such Minds, Often Checks What Is Absurd, And Fully As Often Smothers That Which Is Noble.

Many A Law, Many A Commandment Have I Broken, But My Word Never.