To Be Angry Is To Revenge The

One Science Only Will One Genius Fit; So Vast Is Art, So Narrow Human Wit.

There Is Nothing That Is Meritorious But Virtue And Friendship.

Fly, Dotard, Fly! With Thy Wise Dreams And Fables Of The Sky.

The Hog That Ploughs Not, Not Obeys Thy Call, Lives On The Labours Of This Lord Of All.

No More The Mounting Larks, While Daphne Sings, Shall, List'ning, In Mid-air Suspend Their Wings.