Oh! Blest With Temper, Whose

Know Then, Unnumber'd Spirits Round Thee Fly, The Light Militia Of The Lower Sky.

On Life's Vast Ocean Diversely We Sail, Reason The Card, But Passion Is The Gale; Nor God Alone In The Still Calm We Find, He Mounts The Storm, And Walks Upon The Wind.

True Self-love And Social Are The Same.

Th' Unwilling Gratitude Of Base Mankind!

No Craving Void Left Aching In The Soul.