Had It Lived Long, Is

Among The Blind The One-eyed Blinkard Reigns

He Nothing Common Did, Or Mean, / Upon That Memorable Scene, / But With His Keener Eye / The Axe's Edge Did Try.

But Fate Does Iron Wedges Drive, And Always Crowds Itself Betwixt.

See How The Orient Dew, Shed From The Bosom Of The Morn Into The Blowing Roses, Yet Careless Of Its Mansion New; For The Clear Region Where 'twas Born Round In Its Self Encloses: And In Its Little Globes Extent, Frames As It Can Its Native Element.

And All The Way, To Guide Their Chime, With Falling Oars They Kept Their Time.