Lulled In The Countless Chambers Of The

Worth Makes The Man, And Want Of It The Fellow; The Rest Is All But Leather And Prunello.

Statesman, Yet Friend To Truth! Of Soul Sincere, In Action Faithful, And In Honour Clear; Who Broke No Promise, Serv'd No Private End, Who Gain'd No Title, And Who Lost No Friend.

Cursed Be The Verse, How Well So E'er It Flow, That Tends To Make One Worthy Man My Foe.

There Is A Majesty In Simplicity.

So Modern 'pothecaries, Taught The Art By Doctor's Bills To Play The Doctor's Part, Bold In The Practice Of Mistaken Rules, Prescribe, Apply, And Call Their Masters Fools.