Art Still Followed Where Rome's Eagles Flew.

I Lisp'd In Numbers, For The Numbers Came.

Sickness Is A Sort Of Early Old Age; It Teaches Us A Diffidence In Our Earthly State.

Not To Go Back Is Somewhat To Advance, And Men Must Walk, At Least, Before They Dance.

Who Pants For Glory, Finds But Short Repose; A Breath Revives Him, Or A Breath O'erthrows.

By Music Minds An Equal Temper Know, Nor Swell Too High, Nor Sink Too Low. . . . . Warriors She Fires With Animated Sounds. Pours Balm Into The Bleeding Lover's Wounds.