Give Me Again My Hollow Tree A

Some Positive Persisting Fops We Know, Who, If Once Wrong, Will Needs Be Always So; But You With Pleasure Own Your Errors Past, And Make Each Day A Critique On The Last.

Wise Wretch! With Pleasures Too Refined To Please, With Too Much Spirit To Be E'er At Ease, With Too Much Quickness Ever To Be Taught, With Too Much Thinking To Have Common Thought: You Purchase Pain With All That Joy Can Give, And Die Of Nothing But A Rage To Live.

Dear Fatal Name! Rest Ever Unreveal'd, Nor Pass These Lips In Holy Silence Seal'd. Hide It, My Heart, Within That Close Disguise, Where Mixed With Gods, His Lov'd Idea Lies: O Write It Not, My Hand - The Name Appears Already Written - Wash It Out, My Tears! In Vain Lost Eloisa Weeps And Prays, Her Heart Still Dictates, And Her Hand Obeyes.

Act Well Your Part, There All The Honour Lies.

So Vast Is Art, So Narrow Human Wit.