Genius Is Independent Of Situation.

Little Do Such Men Know The Toil, The Pains, The Daily, Nightly Racking Of The Brains, To Range The Thoughts, The Matter To Digest, To Cull Fit Phrases, And Reject The Rest.

The Oak, When Living, Monarch Of The Wood; The English Oak, Which, Dead, Commands The Flood.

Though By Whim, Envy, Or Resentment Led, They Damn Those Authors Whom They Never Read.

There's A Strange Something, Which Without A Brain Fools Feel, And Which E'en Wise Men Can't Explain, Planted In Man, To Bind Him To That Earth, In Dearest Ties, From Whence He Drew His Birth.

Satire, Whilst Envy And Ill-humor Sway The Mind Of Man, Must Always Make Her Way; Nor To A Bosom, With Discretion Fraught, Is All Her Malice Worth A Single Thought. The Wise Have Not The Will, Nor Fools The Power, To Stop Her Headstrong Course; Within The Hour Left To Herself, She Dies; Opposing Strife Gives Her Fresh Vigor, And Prolongs Her Life.