Nor Fame I Slight, Nor Her Favors

A Brain Of Feathers, And A Heart Of Lead.

Pleased To The Last, He Crops The Flowery Food, And Licks The Hand Just Raised To Shed His Blood.

Slave To No Sect, Who Takes No Private Road, But Looks Through Nature Up To Nature's God.

Extremes In Nature Equal Ends Produce; In Man They Join To Some Mysterious Use.

Know, Nature's Children All Divide Her Care, The Fur That Warms A Monarch Warmed A Bear.