Music Might Tame And Civilize Wild Beasts,

I Hate The Man Who Builds His Name On Ruins Of Another's Fame. Thus Prudes, By Characters O'erthrown, Imagine That They Raise Their Own. Thus Scribblers, Covetous Of Praise, Think Slander Can Transplant The Bays.

I Never, With Important Air, In Conversation Overbear. . . . . My Tongue Within My Lips I Rein; For Who Talks Much Must Talk In Vain.

To Cheat A Man Isnothing; But The Womanmust Have Fine Parts Indeed Who Cheats A Woman!

Give Me, Kind Heaven, A Private Station, A Mind Serene For Contemplation.

One Common Fate We Both Must Prove; You Die With Envy, I With Love.