Socrates... Whom Well Inspir'd The Oracle Pronounc'd

O Fleeting Joys Of Paradise, Dear Bought With Lasting Woes!

With Ruin Upon Ruin, Rout On Rout, Confusion Worse Confounded.

Blind Mouths! That Scarce Themselves Know How To Hold A Sheep-hook.

As Therefore The State Of Man Now Is, What Wisdom Can There Be To Choose, What Continence To Forbear, Without The Knowledge Of Good And Evil?

O Nightingale, That On Yon Bloomy Spray Warblest At Eve, When All The Woods Are Still; Thou With Fresh Hope The Lover's Heart Dost Fill While The Jolly Hours Lead On Propitious May.