Then Marble, Soften'd Into Life, Grew Warm.

I Believe It Is No Wrong Observation, That Persons Of Genius, And Those Who Are Most Capable Of Art, Are Always Fond Of Nature, As Such Are Chiefly Sensible, That All Art Consists In The Imitation And Study Of Nature. On The Contrary, People Of The Common Level Of Understanding Are Principally Delighted With The Little Niceties And Fantastical Operations Of Art, And Constantly Think That Finest Which Is Least Natural.

Who Finds Not Providence All Good And Wise, Alike In What It Gives, And What Denies.

Genius Creates, And Taste Preserves. Taste Is The Good Sense Of Genius; Without Taste, Genius Is Only Sublime Folly.

Destroy All Creatures For Thy Sport Or Gust, Yet Cry, If Man's Unhappy, God's Unjust.

Say, Will The Falcon, Stooping From Above, Smit With Her Varying Plumage, Spare The Dove? Admires The Jay The Insect's Gilded Wings? Or Hears The Hawk When Philomela Sings?