Fly, Dotard, Fly! With Thy

The Grave Unites; Where E'en The Great Find Rest, And Blended Lie Th' Oppressor And Th' Oppressed!

False Happiness Is Like False Money; It Passes For A Time As Well As The True, And Serves Some Ordinary Occasions; But When It Is Brought To The Touch, We Find The Lightness And Alloy, And Feel The Loss.

For He Lives Twice Who Can At Once Employ, The Present Well, And E'en The Past Enjoy.

Fool, 'tis In Vain From Wit To Wit To Roam: Know, Sense, Like Charity, Begins At Home.

The Doubtful Beam Long Nods From Side To Side.