Hell Is Full Of Good Intentions.

What Female Heart Can Gold Despise? What Cat 's Averse To Fish?

From Helicon's Harmonious Springs A Thousand Rills Their Mazy Progress Take.

But Knowledge To Their Eyes Her Ample Page Rich With The Spoils Of Time Did Ne'er Unroll; Chill Penury Repressed Their Noble Rage, And Froze The Genial Current Of The Soul.

How Low, How Little Are The Proud, How Indigent The Great!

Where'er The Oak's Thick Branches Stretch A Broader Browner Shade; Where'er The Rude And Moss-grown Beech O'er-canopies The Glade, Beside Some Water's Rushy Brink With Me The Muse Shall Sit, And Think.