I Shall Be But A Shrimp Of

Men Will Believe Anything At All Provided They Are Under No Obligation To Believe It.

Far From The Madding Crowd's Ignoble Strife Their Sober Wishes Never Learn'd To Stray; Along The Cool Sequester'd Vale Of Life They Kept The Noiseless Tenor Of Their Way.

To Contemplation's Sober Eye, Such Is The Race Of Man; And They That Creep, And They That Fly, Shall End Where They Began, Alike The Busy And The Gay, But Flutter Through Life's Little Day.

Large Was His Bounty, And His Soul Sincere, Heaven Did A Recompense As Largely Send: He Gave To Mis'ry (all He Had) A Tear, He Gained From Heav'n ('t Was All He Wish'd) A Friend.

Scatter Plenty O'er A Smiling Land.