Age And Want Sit Smiling At The

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

The Finest Minds, Like The Finest Metals, Dissolve The Easiest.

Though Triumphs Were To Generals Only Due, Crowns Were Reserved To Grace The Soldiers Too.

Beauties In Vain Their Pretty Eyes May Roll; Charms Strike The Sight, But Merit Wins The Soul.

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.