To Shoot At Crows Is Powder Flung

Breathe Soft, Ye Winds! Ye Waves, In Silence Sleep!

Fools May Our Scorn, Not Envy, Raise. For Envy Is A Kind Of Praise.

Lest Men Suspect Your Tale Untrue, Keep Probability In View.

Who Hath Not Heard The Rich Complain Of Surfeits, And Corporeal Pain? He Barr'd From Every Use Of Wealth, Envies The Ploughman's Strength And Health.

By Outward Show Let's Not Be Cheated; An Ass Should Like An Ass Be Treated.