Whatever be the motives which induce men to write,--whether avarice or fame,--the country becomes more wise and happy in which they most serve for instructors.

And e'en while fashion's brightest arts decoy, The heart distrusting asks if this be joy.

Absence, like death, sets a seal on the image of those we love: we cannot realize the intervening changes which time may have effected.

The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whispering wind, And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind.

Ill fares the land, to hastening ills a prey, Where wealth accumulates, and men decay. Princes and lords may flourish or may fade,- A breath can make them, as a breath has made; But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, When once destroy'd, can never be supplied.

Thou source of all my bliss and all my woe, That found'st me poor at first, and keep'st me so.

Error is ever talkative.