I Crown Thee King Of Intimate Delights,

Twere Better To Be Born A Stone Of Ruder Shape, And Feeling None, Than With A Tenderness Like Mine And Sensibilities So Fine! Ah, Hapless Wretch! Condemn'd To Dwell Forever In My Native Shell, Ordained To Move When Others Please, Not For My Own Content Or Ease; But Toss'd And Buffeted About, Now In The Water And Now Out.

Philologists, Who Chase A Painting Syllable Through Time And Space Start It At Home, And Hunt It In The Dark, To Gaul, To Greece, And Into Noah's Ark.

Religion, Richest Favor Of The Skies.

Ever Let The Fancy Roam, Pleasure Never Is At Home.

All Constraint, / Except What Wisdom Lays On Evil Men, / Is Evil.