The Zeal Of Fools Offends At Any

By Music Minds An Equal Temper Know, Nor Swell Too High, Nor Sink Too Low. . . . . Warriors She Fires With Animated Sounds. Pours Balm Into The Bleeding Lover's Wounds.

Heaven Breathes Thro' Ev'ry Member Of The Whole One Common Blessing, As One Common Soul.

In The Nice Bee, What Sense So Subtly True From Pois'nous Herbs Extracts The Healing Dew?

No Silver Saints, By Dying Misers Giv'n, Here Brib'd The Rage Of Ill-requited Heav'n; But Such Plain Roofs As Piety Could Raise, And Only Vocal With The Maker's Praise.

True Self-love And Social Are The Same.