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There Is But One Way I Know Of Conversing Safely With All Men; That Is, Not By Concealing What We Say Or Do, But By Saying Or Doing Nothing That Deserves To Be Concealed.

-Alexander Pope

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There Is But One

Alexander Pope

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There Is But One Way I Know Of Conversing Safely With All Men; That Is, Not By Concealing What We Say Or Do, But By Saying Or Doing Nothing That Deserves To Be Concealed.

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

Therefore They Who Say Our Thoughts Are Not Our Own Because They Resemble The Ancients, May As Well Say Our Faces Are Not Our Own, Because They Are Like Our Fathers: And Indeed It Is Very Unreasonable, That People Should Expect Us To Be Scholars, And Yet Be Angry To Find Us So.

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

The Enormous Faith Of Many Made For One.

Is Not Absence Death To Those Who Love?

Saying Good Bye

On Life's Vast Ocean Diversely We Sail, Reason The Card, But Passion Is The Gale; Nor God Alone In The Still Calm We Find, He Mounts The Storm, And Walks Upon The Wind.

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.

Many Men Have Been Capable Of Doing A Wise Thing, More A Cunning Thing, But Very Few A Generous Thing.

A Gen'rous Heart Repairs A Sland'rous Tongue.

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

Expression Is The Dress Of Thought.

The Vanity Of Human Life Is Like A River, Constantly Passing Away, And Yet Constantly Coming On.

When To The Permanent Is Sacrificed The Mutable, The Prize Is Thine: The Drop Returneth Whence It Came. The Open Path Leads To The Changeless Change - Non-being, The Glorious State Of Absoluteness, The Bliss Past Human Thought.

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

On Her White Breast A Sparkling Cross She Wore, Which Jews Might Kiss And Infidels Adore.

Envy Will Merit, As Its Shade, Pursue

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.

Whate'er The Talents, Or Howe'er Designed, We Hang One Jingling Padlock On The Mind.

Chaste To Her Husband, Frank To All Beside, A Teeming Mistress, But A Barren Bride.

Whenever I Find A Great Deal Of Gratitude In A Poor Man, I Take It For Granted There Would Be As Much Generosity If He Were A Rich Man.

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

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

The Greatest Magnifying Glasses In The World Are A Man's Own Eyes When They Look Upon His Own Person.

All Looks Yellow To The Jaundiced Eye. [and Therefore The Solution Is To Fix The Jaundiced Eye.]

Be Thou The First True Merit To Befriend, His Praise Is Lost Who Stays Till All Commend.

For Wit And Judgment Often Are At Strife, Though Meant Each Other's Aid, Like Man And Wife.

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

Those Move Easiest Who Have Learn'd To Dance.

Act Well Your Part, There All The Honour Lies.

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

Good-nature And Good-sense Must Ever Join; To Err Is Human, To Forgive, Divine.

Ambition First Sprung From Your Blest Abodes: The Glorious Fault Of Angels And Of Gods.

Heaven Breathes Thro' Ev'ry Member Of The Whole One Common Blessing, As One Common Soul.

Tis Use Alone That Sanctifies Expense And Splendor Borrow All Her Rays From Sense.

Bear, Like The Turk, No Brother Near The Throne.

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.

Condition, Circumstance, Is Not The Thing; Bliss Is The Same In Subject Or In King.

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

A Perfect Judge Will Read Each Work Of Wit With The Same Spirit That Its Author Writ: Survey The Whole, Nor Seek Slight Faults To Find Where Nature Moves, And Rapture Warms The Mind.

Grave Authors Say, And Witty Poets Sing, That Honest Wedlock Is A Glorious Thing.

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

Sure Of Their Qualities And Demanding Praise, More Go To Ruined Fortunes Than Are Raised.

Silence! Coeval With Eternity! Thou Wert Ere Nature's Self Began To Be; Thine Was The Sway Ere Heaven Was Formed On Earth, Ere Fruitful Thought Conceived Creation's Birth.

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

Fortune In Men Has Some Small Diff'rence Made, One Flaunts In Rags, One Flutters In Brocade, The Cobbler Apron'd, And The Parson Gown'd, The Friar Hooded, And The Monarch Crown'd.

Love The Offender, Yet Detest The Offense.

Soft O'er The Shrouds Aerial Whispers Breathe, That Seemed But Zephyrs To The Train Beneath.

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).

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.

Only Music Has The Ability To Take You To The Edge Of Reality And Allow You To Peek In For A Moment.

Horses (thou Say'st) And Asses Men May Try, And Ring Suspected Vessels Ere They Buy; But Wives, A Random Choice, Untried They Take; They Dream In Courtship, But In Wedlock Wake; Then, Nor Till Then, The Veil's Removed Away, And All The Woman Glares In Open Day.

Genius Creates, And Taste Preserves. Taste Is The Good Sense Of Genius; Without Taste, Genius Is Only Sublime Folly.

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

'tis Not A Lip, Or Eye, We Beauty Call, But The Joint Force And Full Result Of All.

Nature Made Every Fop To Plague His Brother, Just As One Beauty Mortifies Another.

Hope Travels Through, Nor Quits Us When We Die.

Pretty! In Amber To Observe The Forms Of Hairs, Of Straws, Or Dirt, Or Grubs, Or Worms! The Things, We Know, Are Neither Rich Nor Rare, But Wonder How The Devil They Got There.

As The Twig Is Bent, So Grows The Tree.

But See, The Shepherds Shun The Noonday Heat, The Lowing Herds To Murmuring Brooks Retreat, To Closer Shades The Panting Flocks Remove; Ye Gods! And Is There No Relief For Love?

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

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.

Cursed Be The Verse, How Well So E'er It Flow, That Tends To Make One Worthy Man My Foe.

Then Marble, Soften'd Into Life, Grew Warm.

That Character In Conversation Which Commonly Passes For Agreeable Is Made Up Of Civility And Falsehood.

No, Make Me Mistress To The Man I Love; If There Be Yet Another Name More Free More Fond Than Mistress, Make Me That To Thee!

Count All Th' Advantage Prosperous Vice Attains, 'tis But What Virtue Flies From And Disdains: And Grant The Bad What Happiness They Would, One They Must Want--which Is, To Pass For Good.

A Brain Of Feathers, And A Heart Of Lead.

[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.

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

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.

Never Elated When Someone's Oppressed, Never Dejected When Another One's Blessed.

Ask You What Provocation I Have Had? The Strong Antipathy Of Good To Bad.

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

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

A Fly, A Grape-stone, Or A Hair Can Kill.

If, Presume Not To God To Scan; The Proper Study Of Mankind Is Man. Plac'd On This Isthmus Of A Middle State, A Being Darkly Wise, And Rudely Great.

Who Breaks A Butterfly On A Wheel?

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.

Learning Is Like Mercury, One Of The Most Powerful And Excellent Things In The World In Skillful Hands; In Unskillful, The Most Mischievous.

The Proper Study Of Mankind Is Man.

Occupy Yourself

Tis Strange The Miser Should His Cares Employto Gain Those Riches He Can Ne'er Enjoy;is It Less Strange The Prodigal Should Wastehis Wealth To Purchase What He Ne'er Can Taste?

True Self-love And Social Are The Same.

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

Hope Springs Eternal.

At Present We Can Only Reason Of The Divine Justice From What We Know Of Justice In Man. When We Are In Other Scenes, We May Have Truer And Nobler Ideas Of It; But While We Are In This Life, We Can Only Speak From The Volume That Is Laid Open Before Us.

How Glowing Guilt Exalts The Keen Delight!

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.

All Nature Mourns, The Skies Relent In Showers; Hushed Are The Birds, And Closed The Drooping Flowers.

A Long, Exact, And Serious Comedy; In Every Scene Some Moral Let It Teach, And, If It Can, At Once Both Please And Preach.

She Went From Opera, Park, Assembly, Play, To Morning Walks, And Prayers Three Hours A Day. To Part Her Time 'twixt Reading And Bohea, To Muse, And Spill Her Solitary Tea, Or O'er Cold Coffee Trifle With The Spoon, Count The Slow Clock, And Dine Exact At Noon.

At Ev'ry Word A Reputation Dies.

But See, Orion Sheds Unwholesome Dews; Arise, The Pines A Noxious Shade Diffuse; Sharp Boreas Blows, And Nature Feels Decay, Time Conquers All, And We Must Time Obey.

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!

Yes, I Am Proud; I Must Be Proud To See Men Not Afraid Of God, Afraid Of Me.

Why Has Not Man A Microscopic Eye? For This Plain Reason, Man Is Not A Fly. Say What The Use, Were Finer Optics Giv'n, T' Inspect A Mite, Not Comprehend The Heav'n.

To Dazzle Let The Vain Design, To Raise The Thought And Touch The Heart, Be Thine!

Eye Nature's Walks, Shoot Folly As It Flies, And Catch The Manners Living As They Rise; Laugh Where We Must, Be Candid Where We Can, But Vindicate The Ways Of God To Man.

When I Die, I Should Be Ashamed To Leave Enough To Build Me A Monument If There Were A Wanting Friend Above Ground. I Would Enjoy The Pleasure Of What I Give By Giving It Alive And Seeing Another Enjoy It.

Heav'n From All Creatures Hides The Book Of Fate, All But The Page Prescribed, Their Present State: From Brutes What Men, From Men What Spirits Know: Or Who Could Suffer Being Here Below?

To Swear Is Neither Brave, Polite, Nor Wise.

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

Histories Are More Full Of Examples Of The Fidelity Of Dogs Than Of Friends.

Unthought-of Frailties Cheat Us In The Wise.

And Not A Vanity Is Given In Vain.

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

Time Management

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

But Just Disease To Luxury Succeeds, And Ev'ry Death Its Own Avenger Breeds.

Disease And Death

While I Live, No Rich Or Noble Knave Shall Walk The World In Credit To His Grave.

Some Old Men, Continually Praise The Time Of Their Youth. In Fact, You Would Almost Think That There Were No Fools In Their Days, But Unluckily They Themselves Are Left As An Example.

Whoever Thinks A Faultless Piece To See, Thinks What Ne'er Was, Nor Is, Nor E'er Shall Be, In Every Work Regard The Writer's End, Since None Can Compass More Than They Intend; And If The Means Be Just, The Conduct True, Applause, In Spite Of Trivial Faults, Is Due.

Whate'er The Passion, Knowledge, Fame, Or Pelf, Not One Will Change His Neighbor With Himself.

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!

What Is It To Be Wise? 'tis But To Know How Little Can Be Known, To See All Others' Faults, And Feel Our Own.

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

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

Fine Sense And Exalted Sense Are Not Half So Useful As Common Sense.

Nay, Fly To Altars; There They'll Talk You Dead; For Fools Rush In Where Angels Fear To Tread.

We Ought, In Humanity, No More To Despise A Man For The Misfortunes Of The Mind Than For Those Of The Body, When They Are Such As He Cannot Help; Were This Thoroughly Considered We Should No More Laugh At A Man For Having His Brains Cracked Than For Having His Head Broke.

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

To Buy Books As Some Do Who Make No Use Of Them, Only Because They Were Published By An Eminent Printer, Is Much As If A Man Should Buy Clothes That Did Not Fit Him, Only Because They Were Made By Some Famous Tailor.

All Nature Is But Art, Unknown To Thee All Chance, Direction, Which Thou Canst Not See; All Discord, Harmony Not Understood; All Partial Evil, Universal Good.

How Vast A Memory Has Love!

Astrologers That Future Fates Foreshow.

The Right Divine Of Kings To Govern Wrong.

Some Praise At Morning What They Blame At Night, But Always Think The Last Opinion Right.

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.

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.

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.

And Bear About The Mockery Of Woe To Midnight Dances And The Public Show.

I Was Not Born For Courts And Great Affairs, But I Pay My Debts, Believe And Say My Prayers.

Did Some More Sober Critics Come Abroad? If Wrong, I Smil'd; If Right, I Kiss'd The Rod.

The Soul's Calm Sunshine, And The Heartfelt Joy.

To Be, Contents His Natural Desire, He Asks No Angel's Wing, No Seraph's Fire; But Thinks, Admitted To That Equal Sky, His Faithful Dog Shall Bear Him Company. Go Wiser Thou! And In Thy Scale Of Sense Weigh Thy Opinion Against Providence.

The Laughers Are A Majority.

Placed On This Isthmus Of A Middle State, A Being Darkly Wise And Rudely Great... He Hangs Between; In Doubt To Act Or Rest; In Doubt To Deem Himself A God, Or Beast; In Doubt His Mind Or Body To Prefer; Born To Die, And Reasoning But To Err.

Who Builds A Church To God And Not To Fame, Will Never Mark The Marble With His Name.

If Faith Itself Has Different Dresses Worn, What Wonder Modes In Wit Should Take Their Turn?

Praise Undeserved, Is Satire In Disguise.

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

Never Find Fault With The Absent.

Pride, Where Wit Fails, Steps In To Our Defence, And Fills Up All The Mighty Void Of Sense.

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

True Ease In Writing Comes From Art, Not Chance, As Those Move Easiest Who Have Learned To Dance.

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

The Dull Flat Falsehood Serves For Policy, And In The Cunning, Truth's Itself A Lie.

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

Order Is Heaven's First Law.

So Upright Quakers Please Both Man And God.

Search Then The Ruling Passion: This Clue, Once Found, Unravels All The Rest.

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

She Who Ne'er Answers Till A Husband Cools, Or, If She Rules Him, Never Shows She Rules; Charms By Accepting, By Submitting, Sways, Yet Has Her Humor Most, When She Obeys.

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

Trust Not Yourself, But Your Defects To Know, Make Use Of Every Friend And Every Foe.

Honor And Shame From No Condition Rise. Act Well Your Part: There All The Honor Lies.

The Same Ambition Can Destroy Or Save, And Make A Patriot As It Makes A Knave.

See How The World Its Veterans Rewards! A Youth Of Frolics, An Old Age Of Cards; Fair To No Purpose, Artful To No End, Young Without Lovers, Old Without A Friend; A Fop Their Passion, But Their Prize A Sot; Alive Ridiculous, And Dead Forgot.

For Critics, As They Are Birds Of Prey, Have Ever A Natural Inclination To Carrion.

Placed On This Isthmus Of A Middle State.

All Nature Is But Art Unknown To Thee.

That, Chang'd Thro' All And Yet In All The Same, Great In The Earth As In Th' Ætherial Frame, Warms In The Sun, Refreshes In The Breeze, Glows In The Stars, And Blossoms In The Trees... Breathes In Our Soul, Informs Our Mortal Part... Submit - In This, Or Any Other Sphere, Secure To Be As Blest As Thou Canst Bear. All Nature Is But Art, Unknown To Thee; All Chance, Direction Which Thou Canst Not See; All Discord, Harmony Not Understood... All Partial Evil, Universal Good.

The Most Positive Men Are The Most Credulous.

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

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

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.

A Youth Of Frolic, An Old Age Of Cards.

Our Business In The Field Of Fight, Is Not To Question, But To Prove Our Might.

Oft, As In Airy Rings They Skim The Heath, The Clamtrous Lapwings Feel The Leaden Death; Oft, As The Mounting Larks Their Notes Prepare They Fall, And Leave Their Little Lives In Air.

Now Warm In Love, Now With'ring In My Bloom Lost In A Convent's Solitary Gloom!

Eve Left Adam, To Meet The Devil In Private.

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.

Lo, What Huge Heaps Of Littleness Around!

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.

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

The Time Shall Come, When, Free As Seas Or Wind, Unbounded Thames Shall Flow For All Mankind, Whole Nations Enter With Each Swelling Tide, And Seas But Join The Regions They Divide; Earth's Distant Ends Our Glory Shall Behold, And The New World Launch Forth To Seek The Old.

Behold The Child, By Nature's Kindly Law Pleased With A Rattle, Tickled With A Straw.

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

Nor In The Critic Let The Man Be Lost.

Atheists Put On False Courage And Alacrity In The Midst Of Their Darkness And Apprehensions, Like Children Who, When They Fear To Go In The Dark, Will Sing For Fear.

Of All The Causes Which Conspire To Blind Man's Erring Judgement, And Misguide The Mind, What The Weak Head With Strongest Bias Rules, Is Pride, The Never-failing Vice Of Fools.

First Follow Nature, And Your Judgment Frame By Her Just Standard, Which Is Still The Same: Unerring Nature, Still Divinely Bright, One Clear, Unchanged, And Universal Light, Life, Force, And Beauty Must To All Impart, At Once The Source, And End, And Test Of Art.

Persons Of Genius, And Those Who Are Most Capable Of Art, Are Always Most Fond Of Nature: As Such Are Chiefly Sensible, That All Art Consists In The Imitation And Study Of Nature.

In Vain Sedate Reflections We Would Make When Half Our Knowledge We Must Snatch, Not Take.

The Most Positive Men Are The Most Credulous, Since They Most Believe Themselves, And Advise Most With Their Falsest Flatterer And Worst Enemy--their Own Self-love.

Education Forms The Common Mind. Just As The Twig Is Bent, The Tree's Inclined.

On Cold December Fragrant Chaplets Blow, And Heavy Harvests Nod Beneath The Snow.

There Goes A Saying, And 'twas Shrewdly Said, ''old Fish At Table, But Young Flesh In Bed.

Authors, Like Coins, Grow Dear As They Grow Old.

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

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

Give Me Again My Hollow Tree A Crust Of Bread, And Liberty!

Pretty Conceptions, Fine Metaphors, Glittering Expressions, And Something Of A Neat Cast Of Verse Are Properly The Dress, Gems, Or Loose Ornaments Of Poetry.

How Shall I Lose The Sin, Yet Keep The Sense, And Love The Offender, Yet Detest The Offence?

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

Praise From A Friend, Or Censure From A Foe, Are Lost On Hearers That Our Merits Know.

Love Finds An Altar For Forbidden Fires.

On Wrongs Swift Vengeance Waits.

Let Opening Roses Knotted Oaks Adorn, And Liquid Amber Drop From Every Thorn.

A Wit With Dunces, And A Dunce With Wits.

No Silver Saints, By Dying Misers Giv'n, Here Brib'd The Rage Of Ill-requited Heav'n; But Such Plain Roofs As Piety Could Raise, And Only Vocal With The Maker's Praise.

Presumptuous Man! The Reason Wouldst Thou Find,why Form'd So Weak, So Little, And So Blind?first, If Thou Canst, The Harder Reason Guess,why Form'd No Weaker, Blinder, And No Less!ask Of Thy Mother Earth, Why Oaks Are Madetaller Or Stronger Than The Weeds They Shade?or Ask Of Yonder Argent Fields Above,why Jove's Satellites Are Less Than Jove?

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