Slave To No Sect, Who Takes No

Whoever Thinks A Faultless Piece To See, Thinks What Ne'er Was, Nor Is, Nor E'er Shall Be.

O Peace! How Many Wars Were Waged In Thy Name.

Let Opening Roses Knotted Oaks Adorn, And Liquid Amber Drop From Every Thorn.

Praise From A Friend, Or Censure From A Foe, Are Lost On Hearers That Our Merits Know.

But Honest Instinct Comes A Volunteer; Sure Never To O'er-shoot, But Just To Hit, While Still Too Wide Or Short In Human Wit.