October, 1803

These times strike monied worldlings with dismay:

Even rich men, brave by nature, taint the air

With words of apprehension and despair:

While tens of thousands, thinking on the affray,

Men unto whom sufficient for the day

And minds not stinted or untilled are given,

Sound, healthy, children of the God of heaven,

Are cheerful as the rising sun in May.

What do we gather hence but firmer faith

That every gift of noble origin

Is breathed upon by Hope's perpetual breath;

That virtue and the faculties within

Are vital,—and that riches are akin

To fear, to change, to cowardice, and death?