Consult The Genius Of The Place In

To What Base Ends, And By What Abject Ways, Are Mortals Urg'd Through Sacred Lust Of Praise!

There Should Be, Methinks, As Little Merit In Loving A Woman For Her Beauty As In Loving A Man For His Prosperity; Both Being Equally Subject To Change.

The Spider's Touch, How Exquisitely Fine! Feels At Each Thread, And Lives Along The Line.

The World Is A Thing We Must Of Necessity Either Laugh At Or Be Angry At; If We Laugh At It, They Say We Are Proud; If We Are Angry At It, They Say We Are Ill-natured.

No More The Mounting Larks, While Daphne Sings, Shall, List'ning, In Mid-air Suspend Their Wings.