The Life Of A Wit Is A

In Pride, In Reas'ning Pride, Our Error Lies; All Quit Their Sphere And Rush Into The Skies. Pride Still Is Aiming At The Bless'd Abodes, Men Would Be Angels, Angels Would Be Gods.

So Vast Is Art, So Narrow Human Wit.

Trust Not Yourself, But Your Defects To Know, Make Use Of Every Friend And Every Foe.

Pleas'd Look Forward, Pleas'd To Look Behind,and Count Each Birthday With A Grateful Mind.

Dulness! Whose Good Old Cause I Yet Defend, With Whom My Muse Began, With Who Shall End.