Poem by John Dyer

To His Son

Temperance, exercise, and air,
Make thee strong and debonair;
Quiet, competence, and health,
Furnish thee with real wealth;
Truth, humility, and love,
Lead thee to the bliss above.
More, at best, is but a bubble,
More is often toil and trouble.

1. Ah Gentle Shepherd, Thine the Lot to Tend
2. To Clio, from Rome
3. The English Fog
4. To Aaron Hill, Esq.
5. A Night Prospect

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