Nature, Through All Her Works, In Great

On The Four Aces Doom'd To Roll.

This A Sacred Rule We Find Among The Nicest Of Mankind, (which Never Might Exception Brook From Hobbes Even Down To Bolingbroke,) To Doubt Of Facts, However True, Unless They Know The Causes Too.

The More Haste, Ever The Worst Speed.

Wit, Who Never Once Forgave A Brother, Shall Forgive A Dunce.

Old Age, A Second Child, By Nature Curst With More And Greater Evils Than The First, Weak, Sickly, Full Of Pains: In Ev'ry Breath Railing At Life, And Yet Afraid Of Death.