To Happy Convents, Bosomed Deep In Vines,

The Dull Flat Falsehood Serves For Policy, And In The Cunning, Truth's Itself A Lie.

All Chance, Direction, Which Thou Canst Not See

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

A Little Learning Is A Dangerous Thing; Drink Of It Deeply, Or Taste It Not, For Shallow Thoughts Intoxicate The Brain, And Drinking Deeply Sobers Us Again.

Drink Is The Feast Of Reason And The Flow Of Soul.