Is Pride, The Never-failing Vice Of Fools.

Of Fight Or Fly, This Choice Is Left Ye, To Resist Or Die.

Behold The Child, By Nature's Kindly Law, Pleased With A Rattle, Tickled With A Straw; Some Livelier Plaything Gives His Youth Delight, A Little Louder, But As Empty Quite; Scarfs, Garters, Gold, Amuse His Riper Stage, And Beads And Prayer-books Are The Toys Of Age. Pleased With This Bauble Still, As That Before, Till Tired He Sleeps, And Life's Poor Play Is O'er.

And Bear About The Mockery Of Woe To Midnight Dances And The Public Show.

Remembrance And Reflection How Allied. What Thin Partitions Divides Sense From Thought.

I Never Knew Any Man In My Life Who Could Not Bear Another's Misfortunes Perfectly Like A Christian.