All Habits Gather By Unseen Degrees.

Nothing To Build, And All Things To Destroy.

Revealed Religion First Informed Thy Sight, And Reason Saw Not Till Faith Sprung To Light.

Softly Sweet, In Lydian Measures, Soon He Sooth'd His Soul To Pleasures. War, He Sung, Is Toil And Trouble; Honour But An Empty Bubble; Never Ending, Still Beginning, Fighting Still, And Still Destroying. If All The World Be Worth The Winning, Think, Oh Think It Worth Enjoying: Lovely Thais Sits Beside Thee, Take The Good The Gods Provide Thee.

Pleasure Never Comes Sincere To Man; But Lent By Heaven Upon Hard Usury.

Not Judging Truth To Be In Nature Better Than Falsehood, But Setting A Value Upon Both According To Interest.