So Upright Quakers Please Both Man And

Death, Only Death, Can Break The Lasting Chain; And Here, Ev'n Then, Shall My Cold Dust Remain

In Lazy Apathy Let Stoics Boast, Their Virtue Fixed, 'tis Fixed As In A Frost.

Beauty That Shocks You, Parts That None Will Trust, Wit That Can Creep, And Pride That Licks The Dust.

Good-humor Only Teaches Charms To Last, Still Makes New Conquests And Maintains The Past.

Wit And Judgment Often Are At Strife.