From Harmony, From Heav'nly Harmony. This Universal

Imagination In A Poet Is A Faculty So Wild And Lawless That, Like A High Ranging Spaniel, It Must Have Clogs Tied To It, Lest It Outrun The Judgment. The Great Easiness Of Blank Verse Renders The Poet Too Luxuriant. He Is Tempted To Say Many Things Which Might Better Be Omitted, Or, At Least Shut Up In Fewer Words.

All Authors To Their Own Defects Are Blind.

Virtue In Distress, And Vice In Triumph Make Atheists Of Mankind.

Fortune, That With Malicious Joydoes Man Her Slave Oppress,proud Of Her Office To Destroy,is Seldom Pleasd To Bless.

Set All Things In Their Own Peculiar Place, And Know That Order Is The Greatest Grace.