Soft Is The Strain When Zephyr Gently

Wise Wretch! With Pleasures Too Refined To Please, With Too Much Spirit To Be E'er At Ease, With Too Much Quickness Ever To Be Taught, With Too Much Thinking To Have Common Thought: You Purchase Pain With All That Joy Can Give, And Die Of Nothing But A Rage To Live.

A God Without Dominion, Providence, And Final Causes, Is Nothing Else But Fate And Nature.

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

Grave Authors Say, And Witty Poets Sing, That Honest Wedlock Is A Glorious Thing.

There Is A Majesty In Simplicity.