Joanna Baillie

Think'st thou there are no serpents in the world
But those who slide along the grassy sod,
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Think'st thou there are no serpents in the world
But those who slide along the grassy sod,
And sting the luckless foot that presses them?
There are who in the path of social life
Do bask their spotted skins in Fortune's sun,
And sting the soul.

Words of affection, howsoe'er express'd,
The latest spoken still are deem'd the best.

Words of affection, howsoe'er express'd,
The latest spoken still are deem'd the best.

A willing heart adds feather to the heel
And makes the clown a winged Mercury.

A willing heart adds feather to the heel
And makes the clown a winged Mercury.

Oh, swiftly glides the bonnie boat.
Just parted from the shore,
And to the fisher's chorus-note,
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Oh, swiftly glides the bonnie boat.
Just parted from the shore,
And to the fisher's chorus-note,
Soft moves the dipping oar!

The brave man is not he who feels no fear,
For that were stupid and irrational;
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The brave man is not he who feels no fear,
For that were stupid and irrational;
But he, whose noble soul its fear subdues,
And bravely dares the danger nature shrinks from.