Let's Learn To Live, For

Anger Makes Us Strong, Blind And Impatient, And It Leads Us Wrong; The Strength Is Quickly Lost; We Feel The Error Long.

Oh, Rather Give Me Commentators Plain, Who With No Deep Researches Vex The Brain; Who From The Dark And Doubtful Love To Run, And Hold Their Glimmering Tapers To The Sun.

Soldiers In Arms! Defenders Of Our Soil! Who From Destruction Save Us; Who From Spoil Protect The Sons Of Peace, Who Traffic Or Who Toil; Would I Could Duly Praise You, That Each Deed Your Foe's Might Honor, And Your Friends Might Read.

Whatever Amuses, Serves To Kill Time, To Lull The Faculties, And To Banish Reflection. Whatever Entertains, Usually Awakens The Understanding Or Gratifies The Fancy. Whatever Diverts, Is Lively In Its Nature, And Sometimes Tumultuous In Its Effects.

To Every Class We Have A School Assign'd, Rules For All Ranks, And Food For Every Mind: Yet One There Is, That Small Regard To Rule Or Study Pays, And Still Is Deem'd A School; That, Where A Deaf, Poor, Patient Widow Sits, And Awes Some Thirty Infants As She Knits; Infants Of Humble, Busy Wives, Who Pay Some Trifling Price For Freedom Through The Day. At This Good Matron's Hut The Children Meet, Who Thus Becomes The Mother Of The Street.