Oft In Dreams Invention We Bestow To

Nay, Fly To Altars; There They'll Talk You Dead; For Fools Rush In Where Angels Fear To Tread.

While Man Exclaims, "see All Things For My Use!" "see Man For Mine!" Replies A Pamper'd Goose.

But Blind To Former As To Future Fate, What Mortal Knows His Pre-existent State?

Virtue, I Grant You, Is An Empty Boast; But Shall The Dignity Of Vice Be Lost?

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