This is servitude, To serve the unwise.

Though all the winds of doctrine were let loose to play upon the earth, so Truth be in the field, we do injuriously by licensing and prohibiting to misdoubt her strength. Let her and Falsehood grapple; who ever knew Truth put to the worse, in a free and open encounter.

Good, the more communicated, more abundant grows.

A boundless continent, Dark, waste, and wild, under the frown of night Starless expos'd.

And may at last my weary age Find out the peaceful hermitage, The hairy gown and mossy cell, Where I may sit and rightly spell Of every star that heaven doth shew, And every herb that sips the dew, Till old experience to attain To something like prophetic strain.

To many a youth and many a maid, dancing in the chequer'd shade.

Gratitude bestows reverence.....changing forever how we experience life and the world.