Force Yourself To Reflect On What You

Sir, I Admit Your General Rule, That Every Poet Is A Fool, But You Yourself May Serve To Show It, That Every Fool Is Not A Poet.

I Have Often Been Surprised That Mathematics, The Quintessence Of Truth, Should Have Found Admirers So Few And So Languid. Frequent Consideration And Minute Scrutiny Have At Length Unravelled The Cause: Viz . That Though Reason Is Feasted, Imagination Is Starved; Whilst Reason Is Luxuriating In Its Proper Paradise, Imagination Is Wearily Travelling On A Dreary Desert.

There Is One Art Of Which People Should Be Masters - The Art Of Reflection.

Like One, That On A Lonesome Road Doth Walk In Fear And Dread, And Having Once Turned Round Walks On, And Turns No More His Head; Because He Knows, A Frightful Fiend Doth Close Behind Him Tread.

A Wild Rose Roofs The Ruined Shed, And That And Summer Well Agree.