Fear Not The Anger Of The Wise

Yet Graceful Ease, And Sweetness Void Of Pride, Might Hide Her Faults, If Belles Had Faults To Hide: If To Her Share Some Female Errors Fall, Look On Her Face, And You'll Forget 'em All.

Alas! The Small Discredit Of A Bribe Scarce Hurts The Lawyer, But Undoes The Scribe.

The Ruling Passion, Be It What It Will. The Ruling Passion Conquers Reason Still.

Who Know But He, Whose Hand The Lightning Forms, Who Heaves Old Ocean, And Who Wings The Storms, Pours Fierce Ambition In A Caesar's Mind.

Then, At The Last And Only Couplet Fraught With Some Unmeaning Thing They Call A Thought, A Needless Alexandrine Ends The Song, That, Like A Wounded Snake, Drags Its Slow Length Along.