Amusement Is The Happiness Of Those Who

See The Wild Waste Of All-devouring Years! How Rome Her Own Sad Sepulchre Appears, With Nodding Arches, Broken Temples Spread! The Very Tombs Now Vanish'd Like Their Dead!

Intestine War No More Our Passions Wage, And Giddy Factions Bear Away Their Rage.

The Hungry Judges Soon The Sentence Sign, And Wretches Hang That Jurymen May Dine.

Truth Needs Not Flowers Of Speech.

When Rumours Increase, And When There Is An Abundance Of Noise And Clamour, Believe The Second Report.