And Seem To Walk On Wings, And

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

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

So Upright Quakers Please Both Man And God.

Chiefs Who No More In Bloody Fights Engage, But Wise Through Time, And Narrative With Age, In Summer-days Like Grasshoppers Rejoice - A Bloodless Race, That Send A Feeble Voice.

Gentle Dullness Ever Loves A Joke.