Zeal, The Blind Conductor Of The Will.

Let Those Find Fault Whose Wit's So Very Small, They've Need To Show That They Can Think At All; Errors, Like Straws, Upon The Surface Flow; He Who Would Search For Pearls, Must Dive Below. Fops May Have Leave To Level All They Can; As Pigmies Would Be Glad To Lop A Man. Half-wits Are Fleas; So Little And So Light, We Scarce Could Know They Live, But That They Bite.

As Poetry Is The Harmony Of Words, So Music Is That Of Notes.

All Things Are Subject To Decay And When Fate Summons, Monarchs Must Obey.

Time Glides With Undiscover'd Haste; The Future But A Length Behind The Past.

A Satirical Poet Is The Check Of The Laymen On Bad Priests.