A Perfect Woman's But A Softer Man.

Virtuous And Vicious Every Man Must Be, Few In The Extreme, But All In The Degree.

You Beat Your Pate, And Fancy Wit Will Come: Knock As You Please, There's No Body At Home.

Know, Nature's Children All Divide Her Care, The Fur That Warms A Monarch Warmed A Bear.

Self-love, The Spring Of Motion, Acts The Soul; Reason's Comparing Balance Rules The Whole. Man, But For That No Action Could Attend, And, But For This, Were Active To No End: Fix'd Like A Plant On His Peculiar Spot, To Draw Nutrition, Propagate, And Rot; Or, Meteor-like, Flame Lawless Thro' The Void, Destroying Others, By Himself Destroy'd.

The Enormous Faith Of Many Made For One.