As The Twig Is Bent, So Grows

Aurora Now, Fair Daughter Of The Dawn, Sprinkled With Rosy Light The Dewy Lawn.

Nor Fame I Slight, Nor Her Favors Call.

Envy, To Which Th' Ignoble Mind's A Slave, Is Emulation In The Learn'd Or Brave.

To Balance Fortune By A Just Expense, Join With Economy, Magnificence.

Our Passions Are Like Convulsion Fits, Which, Though They Make Us Stronger For A Time, Leave Us The Weaker Ever After.