Fling but a stone, the giant dies.
Avarice, the sphincter of the heart.
Though pleas'd to see the dolphins play, I mind my compass and my way.
Thus, I steer my bark, and sail On even keel, with gentle gale.
Nor bigots who but one way see, through blinkers of authority.
Talk of unusual swell of waist In maid of honor loosely laced.
They politics like ours profess, the greater prey upon the less.
Experience join'd with common sense, To mortals is a providence.
