Die Of A Rose In Aromatic Pain.

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

In The Nice Bee, What Sense So Subtly True From Pois'nous Herbs Extracts The Healing Dew?

Act Well Your Part, There All The Honour Lies.

And All Who Told It Added Something New, And All Who Heard It, Made Enlargements Too.

A God Without Dominion, Providence, And Final Causes, Is Nothing Else But Fate And Nature.