Art Still Followed Where Rome's Eagles Flew.

A Gen'rous Heart Repairs A Sland'rous Tongue.

Pretty! In Amber To Observe The Forms Of Hairs, Of Straws, Or Dirt, Or Grubs, Or Worms! The Things, We Know, Are Neither Rich Nor Rare, But Wonder How The Devil They Got There.

To Happy Convents, Bosomed Deep In Vines, Where Slumber Abbots, Purple As Their Wines.

Ten Censure Wrong For One Who Writes Amiss.

The Villain's Censure Is Extorted Praise.