An Obstinate Person Does Not Hold Opinions;

What So Pure, Which Envious Tongues Will Spare? Some Wicked Wits Have Libell'd All The Fair, With Matchless Impudence They Style A Wife, The Dear-bought Curse, And Lawful Plague Of Life; A Bosom Serpent, A Domestic Evil, A Night Invasion, And A Mid-day Devil; Let Not The Wise These Sland'rous Words Regard, But Curse The Bones Of Ev'ry Living Bard.

In Lazy Apathy Let Stoics Boast, Their Virtue Fixed, 'tis Fixed As In A Frost.

Lo, What Huge Heaps Of Littleness Around!

In Faith And Hope The World Will Disagree, But All Mankind's Concern Is Charity.

The Flower's Are Gone When The Fruits Appear To Ripen.