Beware The Leader Who Bangs The Drums

Confusion Now Hath Made His Masterpiece.

For Oaths Are Straws, Men's Faiths Are Wafer-cakes, And Hold-fast Is The Only Dog.

There Is An Old Poor Man,. . . . Oppress'd With Two Weak Evils, Age And Hunger.

Fondling,' She Saith, 'since I Have Hemm'd Thee Here Within The Circuit Of This Ivory Pale, I'll Be A Park, And Thou Shalt Be My Deer; Feed Where Thou Wilt, On Mountain Or In Dale: Graze On My Lips, And If Those Hills Be Dry, Stray Lower, Where The Pleasant Fountains Lie.

And When I Am Forgotten, As I Shall Be, And Asleep In Dull Cold Marble, Where No Mention Of Me Must Be Heard Of, Say, I Taught Thee.