The Villain's Censure Is Extorted Praise.

Here Am I, Dying Of A Hundred Good Symptoms.

Truth Shines The Brighter, Clad In Verse.

Sole Judge Of Truth, In Endless Error Hurled: / The Glory, Jest, And Riddle Of The World!

Nature Made Every Fop To Plague His Brother, Just As One Beauty Mortifies Another.

To Be, Contents His Natural Desire, He Asks No Angel's Wing, No Seraph's Fire; But Thinks, Admitted To That Equal Sky, His Faithful Dog Shall Bear Him Company. Go Wiser Thou! And In Thy Scale Of Sense Weigh Thy Opinion Against Providence.