The Public - a thing I cannot help looking upon as an enemy, and which I cannot address without feelings of hostility.
It keeps eternal whisperings around desolate shores
Works of genius are the first things in the world.
O fret not after knowledge - I have none, and yet my song comes native with the warmth. O fret not after knowledge - I have none, and yet the Evening listens.
Pleasure is oft a visitant; but pain Clings cruelly to us.
They swayed about upon a rocking horse, And thought it Pegasus.