On The Four Aces Doom'd To Roll.

Nature Listening Stood, Whilst Shakespeare Play'd And Wonder'd At The Work Herself Had Made.

Wherever Waves Can Roll, And Winds Can Blow.

A Servile Race Who, In Mere Want Of Fault, All Merit Place; Who Blind Obedience Pay To Ancient Schools, Bigots To Greece, And Slaves To Musty Rules.

Those Who Would Make Us Feel Must Feel Themselves.

All Hunt For Fame, But Most Mistake The Way.