His Wit Invites You By

The Rich Are Too Indolent, The Poor Too Weak, To Bear The Insupportable Fatigue Of Thinking.

E'er Since, By Faith, I Saw The Stream Thy Flowing Wounds Supply, Redeeming Love Has Been My Theme, And Shall Be Till I Die.

A Story, In Which Native Humour Reigns, Is Often Useful, Always Entertains; A Graver Fact, Enlisted On Your Side, May Furnish Illustration, Well Applied; But Sedentary Weavers Of Long Tales Give Me The Fidgets, And My Patience Fails.

And In That Hour, The Seeds Of Cruelty, That Since Have Swell'd To Such Gigantic And Enormous Growth, Were Sown In Human Nature's Fruitful Soil. Hence Date The Persecution And The Pain That Man Inflicts On All Inferior Kinds, Regardless Of Their Plaints.

Some Drill And Bore The Solid Earth, And From The Strata There Extract A Register, By Which We Learn, That He Who Made It, And Reveal'd Its Date To Moses, Was Mistaken In Its Age.