Bear, Like The Turk, No Brother Near

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.

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.

It Is Sure The Hardest Science To Forget!

Let Such Teach Others Who Themselves Excel, And Censure Freely Who Have Written Well.

An Honest Man's The Noblest Work Of God.