So Perish All Who Do The Like

Oft In Dreams Invention We Bestow To Change A Flounce Or Add A Furbelow.

See! From The Brake The Whirring Pheasant Springs, And Mounts Exulting On Triumphant Wings; Short Is His Joy! He Feels The Fiery Wound, Flutters In Blood, And Panting Beats The Ground.

A Good-natured Man Has The Whole World To Be Happy Out Of.

The Learned Is Happy, Nature To Explore; The Fool Is Happy, That He Knows No More.

Religion Blushing, Veils Her Sacred Fires, And Unawares Morality Expires.