Whoever Keeps An Open Ear For Tattlers

Defend Me, Therefore, Common Sense, Say From Reveries So Airy, From The Toil Of Dropping Buckets Into Empty Wells, And Growing Old In Drawing Nothing Up.

To Trace In Nature's Most Minute Design The Signature And Stamp Of Power Divine. ... The Invisible In Things Scarce Seen Revealed, To Whom An Atom Is An Ample Field.

Call'd To The Temple Of Impure Delight He That Abstains, And He Alone, Does Right. If A Wish Wander That Way, Call It Home; He Cannot Long Be Safe Whose Wishes Roam.

He That Has Seen Both Sides Of Fifty Has Lived To Little Purpose If He Has No Other Views Of The World Than He Had When He Was Much Younger.

Words Learn'd By Rote A Parrot May Rehearse, But Talking Is Not Always To Converse, Not More Distinct From Harmony Divine The Constant Creaking Of A Country Sign.