Aaron Hill

Letters, from absent friends, extinguish fear,
Unite division, and draw distance near;
Their magic force each silent read more

Letters, from absent friends, extinguish fear,
Unite division, and draw distance near;
Their magic force each silent wish conveys,
And wafts embodied though, a thousand ways:
Could souls to bodies write, death's pow'r were mean,
For minds could then meet minds with heav'n between.

The man who pauses on the paths of treason,
Halts on a quicksand, the first step engulfs him.

The man who pauses on the paths of treason,
Halts on a quicksand, the first step engulfs him.

She was one of those who by fortune's boon
Are born, as they say, with a silver spoon
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She was one of those who by fortune's boon
Are born, as they say, with a silver spoon
In her mouth, not a wooden ladle.

But, oh! the love that gold must crown!

But, oh! the love that gold must crown!

At night, to his own sharp fancies a prey,
He lies like a hedgehog rolled up the wrong way,
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At night, to his own sharp fancies a prey,
He lies like a hedgehog rolled up the wrong way,
Tormenting himself with his prickles.