Confound These Ancestors... They've Stolen

If Men Will Impartially, And Not Asquint, Look Toward The Offices And Function Of A Poet, They Will Easily Conclude To Themselves The Impossibility Of Any Man's Being A Good Poet Without First Being A Good Man.

How Fortune Piles Her Sports When She Begins To Practise Them!

It Is The Highest Of Earthly Honors To Be Descended From The Great And Good. They Alone Cry Out Against A Noble Ancestry Who Have None Of Their Own.

God Wisheth None Should Wreck On A Strange Shelf: To Him Man's Dearer Than To Himself.

Nor For My Peace Will I Go Far, As Wanderers Do, That Still Do Roam, But Make My Strengths, Such As They Are, Here In My Bosom, And At Home.