So Distribution Should Undo Excess, And Each

The Brain May Devise Laws For The Blood, But A Hot Temper Leaps O'er A Cold Decree.

Take But Degree Away, Untune That String, And Hark, What Discord Follows!

Moderate Lamentation Is The Right Of The Dead, Excessive Grief The Enemy To The Living.

Is Man No More Than This? Consider Him Well. Thou Ow'st The Worm No Silk, The Beast No Hide, The Sheep No Wool, The Cat No Perfume. Here's Three On's Are Sophisticated. Thou Art The Thing Itself; Unaccommodated Man Is No More Than Such A Poor, Bare, Forked Animal As Thou Art.

One Sin, I Know, Another Doth Provoke. Murder's As Near To Lust As Flame To Smoke.