With Various Readings Stored His Empty Skull,

Childhood, Who Like An April Morn Appears, Sunshine And Rain, Hopes Clouded O'er With Fears.

With Various Readings Stored His Empty Skull, Learn'd Without Sense, And Venerably Dull.

To Copy Beauty Forfeits All Pretense To Fame; To Copy Faults Is Want Of Sense

Great Use They Have, When In The Hands Of One Like Me, Who Understands, Who Understands The Time And Place, The Person, Manner, And The Grace, Which Fools Neglect; So That We Find, If All The Requisites Are Join'd, From Whence A Perfect Joke Must Spring, A Joke's A Very Serious Thing.

With Curious Art The Brain, Too Finely Wrought, Preys On Herself, And Is Destroyed By Thought.