Few travellers escape—puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear the ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of.
And thus necessity keeps us tailors still:
And thus the native hue of resolution is kept up
By each industrious thought; and tailors too
Of no small pith and moment, by this regard
From tramping turn away, and lose the name
Of vagrants.
J—M——N.