From Desire I Plunge To Its Fulfilment,

To Tremble Before Anticipated Evils Is To Bemoan What Thou Hast Never Lost.

Whatever Nature Undertakes, She Can Only Accomplish It In A Sequence. She Never Makes A Leap.

Rash, Inexperienced Youth Holds Itself A Chosen Instrument, And Allows Itself Unbounded License.

Who Can Think Wise Or Stupid Things At All That Were Not Thought Already In The Past.

What Dazzles, For The Moment Spends Its Spirit; Whats Genuine, Shall Posterity Inherit.