He Finds His Fellow Guilty

I Pity Them Greatly, But I Must Be Mum, For How Could We Do Without Sugar And Rum?

No Tree In All The Grove But Has Its Charms, Though Each Its Hue Peculiar.

The Cross! There, And There Only (though The Deist Rave, And The Atheist, If Earth Bears So Base A Slave); There And There Only, Is The Power To Save.

When One That Holds Communion With The Skies Has Fill'd His Urn Where These Pure Waters Rise, And Once More Mingles With Us Meaner Things, 'tis E'en As If An Angel Shook His Wings.

It Chills My Blood To Hear The Blest Supreme Rudely Appealed To On Each Trifling Theme.