Hope Travels Through, Nor Quits Us When

All Other Goods By Fortune's Hand Are Given, A Wife Is The Peculiar Gift Of Heaven.

Now Warm In Love, Now With'ring In My Bloom Lost In A Convent's Solitary Gloom!

Some Judge Of Authors' Names, Not Works, And Then Nor Praise Nor Blame The Writings, But The Men.

Then From The Mint Walks Forth The Man Of Rhyme, Happy To Catch Me, Just At Dinner-time.

From The Moment One Sets Up For An Author, One Must Be Treated As Ceremoniously, That Is As Unfaithfully, "as A King's Favorite Or A King.