When Chill November's Surly Blast Made Fields

Even Every Ray Of Hope Destroyed And Not A Wish To Gild The Gloom.

When Nature Her Great Masterpiece Designed,and Framed Her Last, Best Work, The Human Mind,her Eye Intent On All The Wondrous Plan,she Formed Of Various Stuff The Various Man.

Such Is The Fate Of Simple Bard, On Life's Rough Ocean Luckless Starr'd

The Best Plans Of Men And Mice Often Go Awry.

Morality, Thou Deadly Bane, Thy Tens O' Thousands Thou Hast Slain! Vain Is His Hope, Whose Stay An' Trust Is In Moral Mercy, Truth, And Justice!