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[t]hro This Air, This Ocean, And This Earth, All Nature Quick, And Bursting Into Birth. Above, How High Progressive Life May Go? Around How Wide? How Deep Extend Below? Vast Chain Of Being! Which From God Began, Ethereal Essence, Spirit, Substance, Man, Beast, Bird, Fish, Insect! What No Eye Can See, No Glass Can Reach! From Infinite To Thee! From Thee To Nothing.... From Natures Chain Whatever Link You Strike, Tenth, Or Ten Thousandth, Breaks The Chain Alike.... All Are But Parts Of One Stupendous Whole: Whose Body Nature Is, And God The Soul.

-Alexander Pope

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[t]hro This Air, This

Alexander Pope

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[t]hro This Air, This Ocean, And This Earth, All Nature Quick, And Bursting Into Birth. Above, How High Progressive Life May Go? Around How Wide? How Deep Extend Below? Vast Chain Of Being! Which From God Began, Ethereal Essence, Spirit, Substance, Man, Beast, Bird, Fish, Insect! What No Eye Can See, No Glass Can Reach! From Infinite To Thee! From Thee To Nothing.... From Natures Chain Whatever Link You Strike, Tenth, Or Ten Thousandth, Breaks The Chain Alike.... All Are But Parts Of One Stupendous Whole: Whose Body Nature Is, And God The Soul.

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Physicians Are In General The Most Amiable Companions And The Best Friends, As Well As The Most Learned Men I Know.

Who Breaks A Butterfly On A Wheel?

Where's The Man Who Counsel Can Bestow, Still Pleased To Teach, And Yet Not Proud To Know.

Drink Is The Feast Of Reason And The Flow Of Soul.

Not Grace, Or Zeal, Love Only Was My Call, And If I Lose Thy Love, I Lose My All.

For Thee I Dim These Eye And Stuff This Head With All Such Reading As Was Never Read.

Who Ne'er Knew Joy But Friendship Might Divide,or Gave His Father Grief But When He Died.

Praise Is Like Ambergrease: A Little Whiff Of It, And By Snatches, Is Very Agreeable; But When A Man Holds A Whole Lump Of It To Your Nose, It Is A Stink, And Strikes You Down.

And Binding Nature Fast In Fate, Left Free The Human Will.

We May See The Small Value God Has For Riches, By The People He Gives Them To.

Nor Fame I Slight, Nor Her Favors Call.

The Man That Loves And Laughs Must Sure Do Well.

Plays Round The Head, But Comes Not To The Heart. One Self-approving Hour Whole Years Outweighs Of Stupid Starers And Of Loud Huzzas; And More True Joy Marcellus Exil'd Feels Than Cæsar With A Senate At His Heels. In Parts Superior What Advantage Lies? Tell (for You Can) What Is It To Be Wise? 't Is But To Know How Little Can Be Known; To See All Others' Faults, And Feel Our Own.

Expression Is The Dress Of Thought, And Still Appears More Decent As More Suitable; A Vile Conceit In Pompous Words Express'd, Is Like A Clown In Regal Purple Dress'd.

There Are Some Solitary Wretches Who Seem To Have Left The Rest Of Mankind, Only, As Eve Left Adam, To Meet The Devil In Private.

No One Should Be Ashamed To Admit They Are Wrong, Which Is But Saying, In Other Words, That They Are Wiser Today Than They Were Yesterday.

Old Politicians Chew On Wisdom Past, And Totter On In Business To The Last.

And Little Eagles Wave Their Wings In Gold.

A Good-natured Man Has The Whole World To Be Happy Out Of.

Virtue She Finds Too Painful An Endeavour, Content To Dwell In Decencies For Ever.

How Instinct Varies In The Grov'ling Swine.

A Brain Of Feathers, And A Heart Of Lead.

Fool, 'tis In Vain From Wit To Wit To Roam: Know, Sense, Like Charity, Begins At Home.

What Can Ennoble Sots, Or Slaves, Or Cowards? Alas! Not All The Blood, Of All The Howards.

Fine Sense And Exalted Sense Are Not Half So Useful As Common Sense. There Are Forty Men Of Wit For One Man Of Sense; And He That Will Carry Nothing About Him But Gold, Will Be Every Day At A Loss For Want Of Readier Change.

Some Men's Wit Is Like A Dark Lantern, Which Serves Their Own Turn And Guides Them Their Own Way, But Is Never Known (according To The Scripture Phrase) Either To Shine Forth Before Men, Or To Glorify Their Father In Heaven.

Then, At The Last And Only Couplet Fraught With Some Unmeaning Thing They Call A Thought, A Needless Alexandrine Ends The Song, That, Like A Wounded Snake, Drags Its Slow Length Along.

Man Never Thinks Himself Happy, But When He Enjoys Those Things Which Others Want Or Desire.

In Adamantine Chains Shall Death Be Bound, And Hell's Grim Tyrant Feel Th' Eternal Wound.

Virtue May Choose The High Or Low Degree, 'tis Just Alike To Virtue, And To Me; Dwell In A Monk, Or Light Upon A King, She's Still The Same Belov'd, Contented Thing.

In Lazy Apathy Let Stoics Boast, Their Virtue Fixed, 'tis Fixed As In A Frost.

Some To Conceit Alone Their Taste Confine, And Glittering Thoughts Struck Out At Ev'ry Line; Pleas'd With A Work Where Nothing's Just Or Fit; One Glaring Chaos And Wild Heap Of Wit.

Avoid Extremes; And Shun The Fault Of Such Who Still Are Pleas'd Too Little Or Too Much.

Whoever Thinks A Faultless Piece To See, Thinks What Ne'er Was, Nor Is, Nor E'er Shall Be.

The Mouse That Always Trusts To One Poor Hole Can Never Be A Mouse Of Any Soul.

To Teach Vain Wits That Science Little Known, T' Admire Superior Sense, And Doubt Their Own!

Yet Graceful Ease, And Sweetness Void Of Pride, Might Hide Her Faults, If Belles Had Faults To Hide: If To Her Share Some Female Errors Fall, Look On Her Face, And You'll Forget 'em All.

New, Distant Scenes Of Endless Science Rise: So Pleas'd At First, The Towring Alps We Try.

A Disputant No More Cares For The Truth Than The Sportsman For The Hare.

All Looks Yellow To A Jaundiced Eye That Habitually Compares Everything To Something Better. But By Changing That Habit To Comparing Everything To Something Worse, Even Making It A Game, That Person Can Find Gratitude, Relief And Happiness Where-ever They Go And Whatever They Experience, Guaranteed!

Whether The Darken'd Room To Muse Invite, Or Whiten'd Wall Provoke The Skew'r To Write; In Durance, Exile, Bedlam, Or The Mint, Like Lee Or Budgel I Will Rhyme And Print.

Virtue, I Grant You, Is An Empty Boast; But Shall The Dignity Of Vice Be Lost?

When To Mischief Mortals Bend Their Will, How Soon They Find It Instruments Of Ill.

Health Consists With Temperance Alone.

Beauty Draws Us With A Single Hair.

Be Niggards Of Advice On No Pretense; For The Worst Avarice Is That Of Sense.

For He Lives Twice Who Can At Once Employ, The Present Well, And E'en The Past Enjoy.

Time Management

Worth Makes The Man, And Want Of It The Fellow; The Rest Is All But Leather And Prunello.

One Self-approving Hour Whole Years Outweighs.

In Faith And Hope The World Will Disagree, But All Mankind's Concern Is Charity.

The Life Of A Wit Is A Warfare Upon Earth.

And Hence One Master-passion In The Breast, Like Aaron's Serpent, Swallows Up The Rest.

How Index-learning Turns No Student Pale, Yet Holds The Eel Of Science By The Tail!

Nothing Can Be More Shocking And Horrid Than One Of Our Kitchens Sprinkled With Blood, And Abounding With The Cries Of Expiring Victims Or With The Limbs Of Dead Animals Scattered Or Hung Up Here And There.

Pleasure, Or Wrong Or Rightly Understood, Our Greatest Evil, Or Our Greatest Good.

The Approach Of Night The Skies Yet Blushing With Departing Light, When Falling Dews With Spangles Deck'd The Glade, And The Low Sun Had Lengthen'd Ev'ry Shade.

What Dire Offence From Am'rous Causes Springs, What Mighty Contests Rise From Trivial Things.

Ask For What End The Heavenly Bodies Shine, Earth For Whose Use? Pride Answers, 'tis For Mine For Me Kind Nature Wakes Her Genial Power, Suckles Each Herb, And Spreads Out Every Flower.

Who Shall Decide When Doctors Disagree, And Soundest Casuists Doubt, Like You And Me?

A King Is A Mortal God On Earth, Unto Whom The Living God Hath Lent His Own Name As A Great Honour; But Withal Told Him, He Should Die Like A Man, Lest He Should Be Proud, And Flatter Himself That God Hath With His Name Imparted Unto Him His Nature Also. John Locke, "of A King", The Conduct Of The Understanding: Essays, Moral, Economical, And Political A King May Be A Tool, A Thing Of Straw; But If He Serves To Frighten Our Enemies, And Secure Our Property, It Is Well Enough: A Scarecrow Is A Thing Of Straw, But It Protects The Corn.

True Wit Is Nature To Advantage Dressed; What Oft Was Thought, But Ne'er So Well Expressed.

What Nature Wants, Commodious Gold Bestows; 'tis Thus We Cut The Bread Another Sows.

Poets Heap Virtues, Painters Gems, At Will, And Show Their Zeal, And Hide Their Want Of Skill.

What's Fame? A Fancy'd Life In Other's Breath. A Thing Beyond Us, Even Before Our Death.

Men Must Be Taught As If You Taught Them Not, And Things Unknown Proposed As Things Forgot.

A Little Learning Is A Dangerous Thing.

Let Fortune Do Her Worst, Whatever She Makes Us Lose, So Long As She Never Makes Us Lose Our Honesty And Our Independence.

The Blest To-day Is As Completely So, As Who Began A Thousand Years Ago.

See Skulking Truth To Her Old Cavern Fled, Mountains Of Casuistry Heap'd O'er Her Head! Philosophy, That Lean'd On Heav'n Before, Shrinks To Her Second Cause, And Is No More. Physic Of Metaphysic Begs Defence, And Metaphysic Calls For Aid On Sense! See Mystery To Mathematics Fly!

The Vulgar Boil, The Learned Roast, An Egg.

Satire's My Weapon, But I'm Too Discreet To Run Amuck, And Tilt At All I Meet.

I As Little Fear That God Will Damn A Man That Has Charity, As I Hope That The Priests Can Save One Who Has Not.

I Believe It Is No Wrong Observation, That Persons Of Genius, And Those Who Are Most Capable Of Art, Are Always Fond Of Nature, As Such Are Chiefly Sensible, That All Art Consists In The Imitation And Study Of Nature. On The Contrary, People Of The Common Level Of Understanding Are Principally Delighted With The Little Niceties And Fantastical Operations Of Art, And Constantly Think That Finest Which Is Least Natural.

Judges And Senates Have Been Bought For Gold; Esteem And Love Were Never To Be Sold.

On Wrongs Swift Vengeance Waits.

Beauty That Shocks You, Parts That None Will Trust, Wit That Can Creep, And Pride That Licks The Dust.

It Is Sure The Hardest Science To Forget!

How Happy Is The Blameless Vestal's Lot? The World Forgetting, By The World Forgot.

True Friendship's Laws Are By This Rule Express'd, Welcome The Coming, Speed The Parting Guest.

Tis Thus The Mercury Of Man Is Fix'd, Strong Grows The Virtue With His Nature Mix'd.

To Err Is Human; To Forgive, Divine.

To Wake The Soul By Tender Strokes Of Art, To Raise The Genius, And To Mend The Heart; To Make Mankind, In Conscious Virtue Bold, Live O'er Each Seene, And Be What They Behold: For This The Tragic Muse First Trod The Stage.

And You, My Critics! In The Chequer'd Shade, Admire New Light Thro' Holes Yourselves Have Made.

The Enormous Faith Of Many Made For One.

Still Follow Sense, Of Ev'ry Art The Soul, Parts Answering Parts Shall Slide Into A Whole.

A Brave Man Thinks No One His Superior Who Does Him An Injury, For He Has It Then In His Power To Make Himself Superior To The Other By Forgiving It.

Act Well Your Part, There All The Honour Lies.

Simplicity Is The Mean Between Ostentation And Rusticity.

Ye Gods, Annihilate But Space And Time, And Make Two Lovers Happy.

What Then Remains, But Well Our Power To Use, And Keep Good-humor Still Whate'er We Lose? And Trust Me, Dear, Good-humor Can Prevail, When Airs, And Flights, And Screams, And Scolding Fail.

The Proper Study Of Mankind Is Man.

Occupy Yourself

And Soften'd Sounds Along The Waters Die: Smooth Flow The Waves, The Zephyrs Gently Play.

Two Women Seldom Grow Intimate But At The Expense Of A Third Person; They Make Friendships As Kings Of Old Made Leagues, Who Sacrificed Some Poor Animal Betwixt Them, And Commenced Strict Allies; So The Ladies, After They Have Pulled Some Character To Pieces, Are From Henceforth Inviolable Friends.

The Doubtful Beam Long Nods From Side To Side.

O Peace! How Many Wars Were Waged In Thy Name.

Calm, Thinking Villains, Whom No Faith Could Fix, Of Crooked Counsels And Dark Politics.

A Wit With Dunces, And A Dunce With Wits.

No Craving Void Left Aching In The Soul.

Homer Excels All The Inventors Of Other Arts In This: That He Has Swallowed Up The Honor Of Those Who Succeeded Him.

Genius Involves Both Envy And Calumny.

Chaos Of Thought And Passion, All Confused; Still By Himself Abused Or Disabused; Created Half To Rise, And Half To Fall; Great Lord Of All Things, Yet A Prey To All; Sole Judge Of Truth, In Endless Error Hurled,- The Glory, Jest, And Riddle Of The World.

Fame, Wealth, And Honour! What Are You To Love?

The Right Divine Of Kings To Govern Wrong.

From The Moment One Sets Up For An Author, One Must Be Treated As Ceremoniously, That Is As Unfaithfully, "as A King's Favorite Or A King.

Poets Like Painters, Thus Unskilled To Trace The Naked Nature And The Living Grace, With Gold And Jewels Cover Ev'ry Part, And Hide With Ornaments Their Want Of Art. True Wit Is Nature To Advantage Dressed, What Oft Was Thought, But Ne'er So Well Expressed.

There Are Certain Times When Most People Are In A Disposition Of Being Informed, And 'tis Incredible What A Vast Good A Little Truth Might Do, Spoken In Such Seasons.

That Virtue Only Makes Our Bliss Below, And All Our Knowledge Is Ourselves To Know.

Devotion's Self Shall Steal A Thought From Heaven.

The Lamb Thy Riot Dooms To Bleed Today, Had He Thy Reason, Would He Skip And Play? Pleas'd To The Last He Crops The Flow'ry Food, And Licks The Hand Just Rais'd To Shed His Blood.

While Pensive Poets Painful Vigils Keep, Sleepless Themselves, To Give Their Readers Sleep.

The Difference Is Too Nice - Where Ends The Virtue Or Begins The Vice.

Learn From The Birds What Food The Thickets Yield; Learn From The Beasts The Physic Of The Field; The Arts Of Building From The Bee Receive; Learn Of The Mole To Plow, The Worm To Weave.

But Thinks, Admitted To That Equal Sky, His Faithful Dog Shall Bear Him Company.

Cavil You May, But Never Criticise.

Happy The Man Whose Wish And Care A Few Paternal Acres Bound, Content To Breathe His Native Air In His Own Ground.

Teach Me To Feel Another's Woe, To Hide The Fault I See, That Mercy I To Others Show, That Mercy Show To Me.

Vast Chain Of Being! Which From God Began, Natures Ethereal, Human, Angel, Man, Beast, Bird, Fish, Insect, What No Eye Can See, No Glass Can Reach, From Infinite To Thee, From Thee To Nothing.

The Season When To Come, And When To Go, To Sing, Or Cease To Sing, We Never Know.

A Little Learning Is A Dangerous Thing; Drink Deep, Or Taste Not The Pierian Spring.

Sometimes Virtue Starves While Vice Is Fed.

When Much Dispute Has Past, We Find Our Tenets Just The Same As Last.

Reason, However Able, Cool At Best, Cares Not For Service, Or But Serves When Prest, Stays Till We Call, And Then Not Often Near.

Ah! Why, Ye Gods, Should Two And Two Make Four?

Judge Not Of Actions By Their Mere Effect; Dive To The Center, And The Cause Detect. Great Deeds From Meanest Springs May Take Their Course, And Smallest Virtues From A Mighty Source.

Here Am I, Dying Of A Hundred Good Symptoms.

Famous Last Words

See Christians, Jews, One Heavy Sabbath Keep, And All The Western World Believe And Sleep.

The Way Of The Creative Works Through Change And Transformation, So That Each Thing Receives Its True Nature And Destiny And Comes Into Permanent Accord With The Great Harmony: This Is What Furthers And What Perseveres.

Blessed Is The Man Who Expects Nothing, For He Shall Never Be Disappointed Was The Ninth Beatitude.

Hear How The Birds, On Ev'ry Blooming Spray, With Joyous Musick Wake The Dawning Day.

Ah! What Avails It Me The Flocks To Keep, Who Lost My Heart While I Preserv'd My Sheep.

A Pear-tree Planted Nigh: 'twas Charg'd With Fruit That Made A Goodly Show, And Hung With Dangling Pears Was Every Bough.

Consult The Genius Of The Place In All.

An Atheist Is But A Mad, Ridiculous Derider Of Piety, But A Hypocrite Makes A Sober Jest Of God And Religion; He Finds It Easier To Be Upon His Knees Than To Rise To A Good Action.

True Wit Is Nature To Advantage Dress'd What Oft Was Thought, But Ne'er So Well Express'd; Something Whose Truth Convinced At Sight We Find, That Gives Us Back The Image Of Our Mind. As Shades More Sweetly Recommend The Light, So Modest Plainness Sets Off Sprightly Wit.

Learn From The Beasts The Physic Of The Field.

What Is Fame? A Fancied Life In Others' Breath.

Who Combats Bravely Is Not Therefore Brave, He Dreads A Death-bed Like The Meanest Slave: Who Reasons Wisely Is Not Therefore Wise,- His Pride In Reasoning, Not In Acting Lies.

It Is Observable That The Ladies Frequent Tragedies More Than Comedies; The Reason May Be, That In Tragedy Their Sex Is Deified And Adored, In Comedy Exposed And Ridiculed.

What So Pure, Which Envious Tongues Will Spare? Some Wicked Wits Have Libell'd All The Fair, With Matchless Impudence They Style A Wife, The Dear-bought Curse, And Lawful Plague Of Life; A Bosom Serpent, A Domestic Evil, A Night Invasion, And A Mid-day Devil; Let Not The Wise These Sland'rous Words Regard, But Curse The Bones Of Ev'ry Living Bard.

The Bookful Blockhead Ignorantly Read, With Loads Of Learned Lumber In His Head, With His Own Tongue Still Edifies His Ears, And Always List'ning To Himself Appears. All Books He Reads, And All He Reads Assails.

Of All Affliction Taught A Lover Yet, 'tis True The Hardest Science To Forget.

But See How Oft Ambition's Aims Are Cross'd, And Chiefs Contend 'til All The Prize Is Lost!

Tis True, 'tis Certain; Man, Though Dead, Retains Part Of Himself; The Immortal Mind Remains.

To Balance Fortune By A Just Expense, Join With Economy, Magnificence.

The Hog That Ploughs Not, Not Obeys Thy Call, Lives On The Labours Of This Lord Of All.

In Various Talk Th' Instructive Hours They Past, Who Gave The Ball, Or Paid The Visit Last; One Speaks The Glory Of The British Queen, And One Describes A Charming Indian Screen; A Third Interprets Motions, Looks, And Eyes; At Every Word A Reputation Dies.

Genuine Religion Is Not So Much A Matter Of Feeling As A Matter Of Principle.

Oft In Dreams Invention We Bestow To Change A Flounce Or Add A Furbelow.

Never Was It Given To Mortal Man - To Lie So Boldly As We Women Can.

Fear Not The Anger Of The Wise To Raise; Those Best Can Bear Reproof Who Merit Praise.

Hope Travels Through, Nor Quits Us When We Die.

Leave Not A Foot Of Verse, A Foot Of Stone, A Page, A Grave, That They Can Call Their Own; But Spread, My Sons, Your Glory Thin Or Thick, On Passive Paper, Or On Solid Brick.

At Every Trifle Take Offense, That Always Shows Great Pride Or Little Sense.

Fair Tresses Man's Imperial Race Ensnare; And Beauty Draws Us With A Single Hair.

What Tully Said Of War May Be Applied To Disputing: "it Should Be Always So Managed As To Remember That The Only True End Of It Is Peace." But Generally True Disputants Are Like True Sportsmen,--their Whole Delight Is In The Pursuit; And The Disputant No More Cares For The Truth Than The Sportsman For The Hare.

Remembrance And Reflection How Allied. What Thin Partitions Divides Sense From Thought.

Taste, That Eternal Wanderer, Which Flies From Head To Ears, And Now From Ears To Eyes.

A Man Of Business May Talk Of Philosophy; A Man Who Has None May Practice It.

To Endeavor To Work Upon The Vulgar With Fine Sense Is Like Attempting To Hew Blocks With A Razor.

Learn Of The Little Nautilus To Sail, Spread The Thin Oar, And Catch The Driving Gale.

All Other Goods By Fortune's Hand Are Given, A Wife Is The Peculiar Gift Of Heaven.

The Soul, Uneasy And Confin'd From Home, Rests And Expatiates In A Life To Come.

For Lo! The Board With Cups And Spoons Is Crowned.the Berries Crackle, And The Mill Turns Round ... At Once They Gratify Their Scent And Taste.and Frequent Cups Prolong The Rich Repast... Coffee (which Makes The Politician Wise And See Through All Things With His Half-shut Eyes).

For I, Who Hold Sage Homer's Rule The Best, Welcome The Coming, Speed The Going Guest.

In Death A Hero, As In Life A Friend!

You Purchase Pain With All That Joy Can Give And Die Of Nothing But A Rage To Live.

Party-spirit At Best Is But The Madness Of Many For The Gain Of A Few.

To The Elysian Shades Dismiss My Soul, Where No Carnation Fades.

Fly, Dotard, Fly! With Thy Wise Dreams And Fables Of The Sky.

Heaven Gave To Woman The Peculiar Grace To Spin, To Weep, And Cully Human Race.

Wit And Judgment Often Are At Strife.

The Flower's Are Gone When The Fruits Appear To Ripen.

If It Be The Chief Point Of Friendship To Comply With A Friends Motions And Inclinations, He Possesses This In A Eminent Degree; He Lies Down When I Sit, And Walks When I Walk, Which Is More Than Many Good Friends Can Pretend To Do.

And Make Each Day A Critic On The Last.

Hope Springs Eternal In The Human Breast: Man Never Is, But Always To Be Blest.

Of Manners Gentle, Of Affections Mild; In Wit A Man; Simplicity, A Child.

Careless Of Censure, Nor Too Fond Of Fame, Still Pleased To Praise, Yet Not Afraid To Blame, Averse Alike To Flatter Or Offend, Not Free From Faults, Nor Yet Too Vain To Mend.

Some People Will Never Learn Anything, For This Reason, Because They Understand Everything Too Soon.

Every Woman Is At Heart A Rake.

On Wings Of Wind Came Flying All Abroad.

Dogs, Ye Have Had Your Day!

Behold The Groves That Shine With Silver Frost, Their Beauty Withered, And Their Verdure Lost!

To Pardon Those Absurdities In Ourselves Which We Cannot Suffer In Others Is Neither Better Nor Worse Than To Be More Willing To Be Fools Ourselves Than To Have Others So.

Others Import Yet Nobler Arts From France, Teach Kings To Fiddle, And Make Senates Dance.

But If You'll Prosper, Mark What I Advise, Whom Age, And Long Experience Render Wise.

Jarring Interests Of Themselves Create The According Music Of A Well-mixed State.

You Beat Your Pate, And Fancy Wit Will Come: Knock As You Please, There's No Body At Home.

The Only Time You Run Out Of Chances Is When You Stop Taking Them

Praise Undeserved, Is Satire In Disguise.

So Upright Quakers Please Both Man And God.

Fondly We Think We Honor Merit Then, When We But Praise Ourselves In Other Men.

As Some To Church Repair, Not For The Doctrine, But The Music There.

Giving Advice Is Many Times Only The Privilege Of Saying A Foolish Thing One's Self, Under The Pretense Of Hindering Another From Doing One.

He Who Serves His Brother Best Gets Nearer God Than All The Rest.

Women, As They Are Like Riddles In Being Unintelligible, So Generally Resemble Them In This, That They Please Us No Longer Once We Know Them.

The Character Of Covetousness, Is What A Man Generally Acquires More Through Some Niggardliness Or Ill Grace In Little And Inconsiderable Things, Than In Expenses Of Any Consequence.

Some People Are Commended For A Giddy Kind Of Good-humor, Which Is As Much A Virtue As Drunkenness.

Consult The Genius Of The Place, That Paints As You Plant, And As You Work.

But Would You Sing, And Rival Orpheus' Strain. The Wond'ring Forests Soon Should Dance Again; The Moving Mountains Hear The Powerful Call. And Headlong Streams Hand Listening In Their Fall!

Who Pants For Glory, Finds But Short Repose; A Breath Revives Him, Or A Breath O'erthrows.

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