JAMES L. FLOOD

  As oft it happens in the youth of day
  That mists obscure the sun's imperfect ray,
  Who, as he's mounting to the dome's extreme,
  Smites and dispels them with a steeper beam,
  So you the vapors that begirt your birth
  Consumed, and manifested all your worth.
  But still one early vice obstructs the light
  And sullies all the visible and bright
  Display of mind and character. You write.