Joy Rul'd The Day, And Love The

Virtue In Distress, And Vice In Triumph Make Atheists Of Mankind.

We Must Beat The Iron While It Is Hot, But We May Polish It At Leisure.

To Tame The Proud, The Fetter'd Slave To Free, These Are Imperial Arts.

How Blessed Is He, Who Leads A Country Life, Unvex'd With Anxious Cares, And Void Of Strife! Who Studying Peace, And Shunning Civil Rage, Enjoy'd His Youth, And Now Enjoys His Age: All Who Deserve His Love, He Makes His Own; And, To Be Lov'd Himself, Needs Only To Be Known.

Truth Is Never To Be Expected From Authors Whose Understanding Is Warped With Enthusiasm.