Here Lies A Proof That Wit Can

Each Moment Of A Happy Lover's Hour Is Worth An Age Of Dull And Common Life.

I Value Fame As Much As If I Had Been Born A Hero.

That Perfect Tranquillity Of Life, Which Is Nowhere To Be Found But In Retreat, A Faithful Friend And A Good Library.

Here Lies A Proof That Wit Can Never Be Defence Enough Against Mortality

All I Ask, Is The Privilege For My Masculine Part The Poet In Me.... If I Must Not, Because Of My Sex, Have This Freedom... I Lay Down My Quill And You Shall Hear No More Of Me.