Ah! Why, Ye Gods, Should Two And

A Fly, A Grape-stone, Or A Hair Can Kill.

The Enormous Faith Of Many Made For One.

For I, Who Hold Sage Homer's Rule The Best, Welcome The Coming, Speed The Going Guest.

Hear How The Birds, On Ev'ry Blooming Spray, With Joyous Musick Wake The Dawning Day.

There Should Be, Methinks, As Little Merit In Loving A Woman For Her Beauty As In Loving A Man For His Prosperity; Both Being Equally Subject To Change.