I Have More Zeal Than Wit.

Fair Tresses Man's Imperial Race Ensnare; And Beauty Draws Us With A Single Hair.

Heav'n From All Creatures Hides The Book Of Fate, All But The Page Prescribed, Their Present State: From Brutes What Men, From Men What Spirits Know: Or Who Could Suffer Being Here Below?

If, Presume Not To God To Scan; The Proper Study Of Mankind Is Man. Plac'd On This Isthmus Of A Middle State, A Being Darkly Wise, And Rudely Great.

A King May Be A Tool, A Thing Of Straw; But If He Serves To Frighten Our Enemies, And Secure Our Property, It Is Well Enough; A Scarecrow Is A Thing Of Straw, But It Protects The Corn.

Find, If You Can, In What You Cannot Change. Manners With Fortunes, Humours Turn With Climes, Tenets With Books, And Principles With Times.