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20.

October, 1803.

These times touch money'd Worldlings with dismay:Even rich men, brave by nature, taint the airWith words of apprehension and despair:While tens of thousands, thinking on the affray,Men unto whom sufficient for the dayAnd minds not stinted or untill'd 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 faithThat every gift of noble originIs breathed upon by Hope's perpetual breath;That virtue and the faculties withinAre vital, and that riches are akinTo fear, to change, to cowardice, and death!
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