Reason's Whole Pleasure, All The Joys Of

Every Woman Is At Heart A Rake.

All Nature's Diff'rence Keeps All Nature's Peace.

And Die Of Nothing But A Rage To Live.

Where London's Column, Pointing At The Skies, Like A Tall Bully, Lifts The Head, And Lies.

If, Presume Not To God To Scan; The Proper Study Of Mankind Is Man. Plac'd On This Isthmus Of A Middle State, A Being Darkly Wise, And Rudely Great.