On The Four Aces Doom'd To Roll.

He Mouths A Sentence As Curs Mouth A Bone.

Genius Is Of No Country; Her Pure Ray Spreads All Abroad, As General As The Day.

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.

It Can't Be Nature, For It Is Not Sense.

To Copy Faults Is Want Of Sense.