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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.

-Alexander Pope

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Vast Chain Of Being!

Alexander Pope

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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.

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I Believe No One Qualification Is So Likely To Make A Good Writer, As The Power Of Rejecting His Own Thoughts.

Know Then This Truth, Enough For Man To Know Virtue Alone Is Happiness Below.

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

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).

But Thousands Die Without Or This Or That, Die, And Endow A College Or A Cat.

If I Am Right, Thy Grace Impart Still In The Right To Stay; If I Am Wrong, O, Teach My Heart To Find That Better Way!

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

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

Death, Only Death, Can Break The Lasting Chain; And Here, Ev'n Then, Shall My Cold Dust Remain

In Men, We Various Ruling Passions Find; In Women, Two Almost Divide The Kind Those, Only Fixed, They First Or Last Obey, The Love Of Pleasure, And The Love Of Sway.

What Bosom Beast Not In His Country's Cause?

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

Learn To Live Well, Or Fairly Make Your Will; You've Play'd, And Lov'd, And Ate, And Drank Your Fill: Walk Sober Off, Before A Sprightlier Age Comes Titt'ring On, And Shoves You From The Stage.

Index-learning Turns No Student Pale, Yet Holds The Eel Of Science By The Tail. Index-learning Is A Term Used To Mock Pretenders Who Acquire Superficial Knowledge Merely By Consulting Indexes.

Superficial Knowledge

O Happiness! Our Being's End And Aim! Good, Pleasure, Ease, Content! Whate'er Thy Name: That Something Still Which Prompts The Eternal Sigh, For Which We Bear To Live, Or Dare To Die.

E'en Sunday Shines No Sabbath Day To Me.

Thus Let Me Live, Unseen, Unknown, Thus Unlamented Let Me Die, Steal From The World, And Not A Stone Tell Where I Lie.

Go, Wiser Thou! And In Thy Scale Of Sense Weigh Thy Opinion Against Providence.

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

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.

How Glowing Guilt Exalts The Keen Delight!

Our Judgments, Like Our Watches, None Go Just Alike, Yet Each Believes His Own

What Woeful Stuff This Madrigal Would Be, In Some Starved Hackney Sonneteer, Or Me! But Let A Lord Once Own The Happy Lines, How The Wit Brightens! How The Style Refines!

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.

All Looks Yellow To A Jaundiced Eye.

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

Fame Can Never Make Us Lie Down Contentedly On A Deathbed.

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

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

One Self-approving Hour Whole Years Outweighs.

All Are But Parts Of One Stupendous Whole, Whose Body Nature Is, And God The Soul.

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.

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

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

Do Good By Stealth, And Blush To Find It Fame.

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

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

Every Woman Is At Heart A Rake.

Know Then Thyself, Presume Not God To Scan; The Proper Study Of Mankind Is Man.

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

The Scripture In Times Of Disputes Is Like An Open Town In Times Of War, Which Serves In Differently The Occasions Of Both Parties.

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

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.

How Vast A Memory Has Love!

There Still Remains To Mortify A Wit The Many-headed Monster Of The Pit.

The People's Voice Is Odd, It Is, And It Is Not, The Voice Of God.

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.

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

Is Pride, The Never-failing Vice Of Fools.

To Rest, The Cushion And Soft Dean Invite, Who Never Mentions Hell To Ears Polite.

Know, Nature's Children All Divide Her Care, The Fur That Warms A Monarch Warmed A Bear.

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

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.

Envy, To Which Th' Ignoble Mind's A Slave, Is Emulation In The Learn'd Or Brave.

Lo, What Huge Heaps Of Littleness Around!

Is That A Birthday? 'tis, Alas! Too Clear; 'tis But The Funeral Of The Former Year.

I Would Not Be Like Those Authors, Who Forgive Themselves Some Particular Lines For The Sake Of A Whole Poem, And Vice Versa A Whole Poem For The Sake Of Some Particular Lines. I Believe No One Qualification Is So Likely To Make A Good Writer, As The Power Of Rejecting His Own Thoughts.

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

Blest Paper-credit! Last And Best Supply! That Lends Corruption Lighter Wings To Fly!

Satire Or Sense, Alas! Can Sporus Feel? Who Breaks A Butterfly Upon A Wheel?

Our Plenteous Streams A Various Race Supply, The Bright-eyed Perch With Fins Of Tyrian Dye, The Silver Eel, In Shining Volumes Roll'd, The Yellow Carp, In Scales Bedropp'd With Gold, Swift Trouts, Diversified With Crimson Stains, And Pikes, The Tyrants Of The Wat'ry Plains.

Do You Find Yourself Making Excuses When You Do Not Perform? Shed The Excuses And Face Reality. Excuses Are The Loser's Way Out. They Will Mar Your Credibility And Stunt Your Personal Growth.

Finding Yourself

From Vulgar Bounds With Brave Disorder Part, And Snatch A Grace Beyond The Reach Of Art.

Be Silent Always When You Doubt Your Sense.

[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.

O Love! For Sylvia Let Me Gain The Prize, And Make My Tongue Victorious As Her Eyes.

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.

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.

Nor Fame I Slight, Nor Her Favors Call.

A Little Learning Is A Dangerous Thing; Drink Of It Deeply, Or Taste It Not, For Shallow Thoughts Intoxicate The Brain, And Drinking Deeply Sobers Us Again.

No Woman Ever Hates A Man For Being In Love With Her, But Many A Woman Hate A Man For Being A Friend To Her.

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

The Lot Of Man - To Suffer And To Die.

Men, Some To Business, Some To Pleasure Take; But Every Woman Is At Heart A Rake.

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.

Whether With Reason, Or With Instinct Blest, Know, All Enjoy That Pow'r Which Suits Them Best.

I Have More Zeal Than Wit.

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

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

Dear, Damned, Distracting Town, Farewell! Thy Fools No More I'll Tease: This Year In Peace, Ye Critics, Dwell, Ye Harlots, Sleep At Ease!

Fix'd Like A Plant On His Peculiar Spot, To Draw Nutrition, Propagate And Rot.

Order Is Heaven's First Law; And This Confessed, Some Are, And Must Be, Greater Than The Rest, More Rich, More Wise; But Who Infers From Hence That Such Are Happier, Shocks All Common Sense. Condition, Circumstance, Is Not The Thing; Bliss Is The Same In Subject Or In King.

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

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

Who Finds Not Providence All Good And Wise, Alike In What It Gives, And What Denies.

All Nature Is But Art Unknown To Thee.

Reason's Whole Pleasure, All The Joys Of Sense, Lie In Three Words,-health, Peace, And Competence.

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

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.

A Fellow Feeling Makes Us Wondrous Kind.

Say, Will The Falcon, Stooping From Above, Smit With Her Varying Plumage, Spare The Dove? Admires The Jay The Insect's Gilded Wings? Or Hears The Hawk When Philomela Sings?

A Work Of Art That Contains Theories Is Like An Object On Which The Price Tag Has Been Left.

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

A Perfect Judge Will Read Each Word Of Wit With The Same Spirit That Its Author Writ.

A Brain Of Feathers, And A Heart Of Lead.

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.

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?

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

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

When Rumours Increase, And When There Is An Abundance Of Noise And Clamour, Believe The Second Report.

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

Oh, When Shall Britain, Conscious Of Her Claim, Stand Emulous Of Greek And Roman Fame? In Living Medals See Her Wars Enroll'd, And Vanquished Realms Supply Recording Gold?

A Wise Physician, Skill'd Our Wounds To Heal, Is More Than Armies To The Public Weal.

It Is Not So Much The Being Exempt From Faults, As Having Overcome Them, That Is An Advantage To Us.

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

It Often Happens That Those Are The Best People Whose Characters Have Been Most Injured By Slanderers: As We Usually Find That To Be The Sweetest Fruit Which The Birds Have Been Picking At.

The Doubtful Beam Long Nods From Side To Side.

Passions Are The Gales Of Life.

Trace Science, Then, With Modesty Thy Guide, First Strip Off All Her Equipage Of Pride, Deduct What Is But Vanity Or Dress, Or Learning's Luxury Or Idleness, Or Tricks, To Show The Stretch Of The Human Brain Mere Curious Pleasure Or Ingenious Pain.

Search Then The Ruling Passion; There Alone, The Wild Are Constant, And The Cunning Known; The Fool Consistent, And The False Sincere; Priests, Princes, Women, No Dissemblers Here.

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.

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.

Good-humor Only Teaches Charms To Last, Still Makes New Conquests And Maintains The Past.

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.

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

Truth Needs Not Flowers Of Speech.

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

Soft Is The Strain When Zephyr Gently Blows, And The Smooth Stream In Smoother Numbers Flows; But When Loud Surges Lash The Sounding Shore, The Hoarse Rough Verse Should Like The Torrent Roar. When Ajax Strives Some Rock's Vast Weight To Throw, The Line Too Labours, And The Words Move Slow: Not So When Swift Camilla Scours The Plain, Flies O'er Th' Unbending Corn, And Skims Along The Main.

Here Am I, Dying Of A Hundred Good Symptoms.

Famous Last Words

Oh, Blindness To The Future! Kindly Giv'n, That Each May Fill The Circle Mark'd By Heaven.

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!

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

Hope Springs Eternal In The Human Breast; Man Never Is, But Always To Be Blest. The Soul, Uneasy, And Confin'd From Home, Rest And Expatiates In A Life To Come. Lo, The Poor Indian! Whose Untutor'd Mind Sees God In Clouds, Or Hears Him In The Wind; His Soul Proud Science Never Taught To Stray Far As The Solar Walk Or Milky Way; Yet Simple Nature To His Hope Has Giv'n, Behind The Cloud-topp'd Hill, An Humbler Heav'n.

To Him No High, No Low, No Great, No Small; He Fills, He Bounds, Connects And Equals All!

Placed On This Isthmus Of A Middle State.

Mankind Is Unamendable.

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

Oh! Be Thou Blest With All That Heaven Can Send, Long Health, Long Youth, Long Pleasure-and A Friend.

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.

Man, Like The Generous Vine, Supported Lives; The Strength He Gains Is From The Embrace He Gives.

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

Not Half So Swift The Trembling Doves Can Fly, When The Fierce Eagle Cleaves The Liquid Sky; Not Half So Swiftly The Fierce Eagle Moves, When Thro' The Clouds He Drives The Trembling Doves.

There Is No Study That Is Not Capable Of Delighting Us After A Little Application To It.

See The Wild Waste Of All-devouring Years! How Rome Her Own Sad Sepulchre Appears, With Nodding Arches, Broken Temples Spread! The Very Tombs Now Vanish'd Like Their Dead!

The Muse But Serv'd To Ease Some Friend, Not Wife, / To Help Me Through This Long Disease, My Life.

For What I Have Publish'd, I Can Only Hope To Be Pardon'd; But For What I Have Burned, I Deserve To Be Prais'd.

On Wings Of Wind Came Flying All Abroad.

One Thought Of Thee Puts All The Pomp To Flight; Priests, Tapers, Temples, Swim Before My Sight.

There Is A Certain Majesty In Simplicity Which Is Far Above All The Quaintness Of Wit.

For When Success A Lover's Toil Attends,few Ask, If Fraud Or Force Attain'd His Ends

Of Fight Or Fly, This Choice Is Left Ye, To Resist Or Die.

Light Quirks Of Music, Broken And Uneven,make The Soul Dance Upon A Jig To Heav'n.

Cavil You May, But Never Criticise.

I Think A Good Deal May Be Said To Extenuate The Fault Of Bad Poets. What We Call A Genius, Is Hard To Be Distinguish'd By A Man Himself, From A Strong Inclination: And If His Genius Be Ever So Great, He Can Not At First Discover It Any Other Way, Than By Giving Way To That Prevalent Propensity Which Renders Him The More Liable To Be Mistaken.

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

Fickle Fortune Reigns, And, Undiscerning, Scatters Crowns And Chains.

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

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.

There Various News I Heard Of Love And Strife,of Peace And War, Health, Sickness, Death, And Life,of Loss And Gain, Of Famine And Of Store,of Storms At Sea, And Travels On The Shore,of Prodigies, And Portents Seen In Air,of Fires And Plagues, And Stars With Blazing Hair,of Turns Of Fortune, Changes In The State,the Fall Of Favourites, Projects Of The Great,of Aid Mismanagements, Taxations New:all Neither Wholly False, Nor Wholly True.

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

Disease And Death

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

Who Breaks A Butterfly On A Wheel?

Eve Left Adam, To Meet The Devil In Private.

A Little Learning Is A Dangerous Thing.

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

The Most Positive Men Are The Most Credulous.

Age And Want Sit Smiling At The Gate.

He Knows To Live Who Keeps The Middle State, And Neither Leans On This Side Nor On That.

Those Oft Are Stratagems Which Errors Seem Nor Is It Homer Nods, But We That Dream.

No Creature Smarts So Little As A Fool.

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.

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.

Destroy All Creatures For Thy Sport Or Gust, Yet Cry, If Man's Unhappy, God's Unjust.

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

The Cabinets Of The Sick And The Closets Of The Dead Have Been Ransacked To Publish Private Letters And Divulge To All Mankind The Most Secret Sentiments Of Friendship.

There Is A Majesty In Simplicity.

Extremes In Nature Equal Ends Produce; In Man They Join To Some Mysterious Use.

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.

Heav'n First Taught Letters For Some Wretch's Aid, Some Banish'd Lover, Or Some Captive Maid.

Praise Undeserved, Is Satire In Disguise.

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

At Ev'ry Word A Reputation Dies.

A Patriot Is A Fool In Ev'ry Age.

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

Monuments, Like Men, Submit To Fate.

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

Authors Are Partial To Their Wit, 'tis True, But Are Not Critics To Their Judgment, Too?

Consult The Genius Of The Place In All.

The Race By Vigour, Not By Vaunts, Is Won.

Nature And Nature's Laws Lay Hid In The Night. God Said, Let Newton Be! And All Was Light!

Every Professional Was Once An Amateur.

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

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.

Some Have At First For Wits, Then Poets Passed, Turned Critics Next, And Proved Plain Fools At Last.

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

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.

The Bookful Blockhead, Ignorantly Read With Loads Of Learned Lumber In His Head.

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.

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

And More Than Echoes Talk Along The Walls.

If A Man's Character Is To Be Abused There's Nobody Like A Relative To Do The Business.

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

False Happiness Is Like False Money; It Passes For A Time As Well As The True, And Serves Some Ordinary Occasions; But When It Is Brought To The Touch, We Find The Lightness And Alloy, And Feel The Loss.

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

Behold The Child, By Nature's Kindly Law, Pleased With A Rattle, Tickled With A Straw; Some Livelier Plaything Gives His Youth Delight, A Little Louder, But As Empty Quite; Scarfs, Garters, Gold, Amuse His Riper Stage, And Beads And Prayer-books Are The Toys Of Age. Pleased With This Bauble Still, As That Before, Till Tired He Sleeps, And Life's Poor Play Is O'er.

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

Truths Would You Teach, Or Save A Sinking Land? All Fear, None Aid You, And Few Understand.

Is It, In Heav'n, A Crime To Love Too Well? To Bear Too Tender Or Too Firm A Heart, To Act A Lover's Or A Roman's Part? Is There No Bright Reversion In The Sky For Those Who Greatly Think, Or Bravely Die?

The Spider's Touch, How Exquisitely Fine! Feels At Each Thread, And Lives Along The Line.

As With Narrow-necked Bottles; The Less They Have In Them, The More Noise They Make In Pouring Out.

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