Yes, I Am Proud; I Must Be

What Will A Child Learn Sooner Than A Song?

Know Then, Unnumber'd Spirits Round Thee Fly, The Light Militia Of The Lower Sky.

When To Mischief Mortals Bend Their Will, How Soon They Find It Instruments Of Ill.

Find, If You Can, In What You Cannot Change. Manners With Fortunes, Humours Turn With Climes, Tenets With Books, And Principles With Times.

Lo! The Poor Indian, Whose Untutored Mind Sees God In Clouds, Or Hears Him In The Wind.