Whate'er The Passion, Knowledge, Fame, Or Pelf,

The Meeting Points The Sacred Hair Dissever From The Fair Head, Forever, And Forever! Then Flashed The Living Lightning From Her Eyes, And Screams Of Horror Rend Th' Affrighted Skies.

Did Some More Sober Critics Come Abroad? If Wrong, I Smil'd; If Right, I Kiss'd The Rod.

O Happiness! Our Being's End And Aim! Good, Pleasure, Ease, Content! Whate'er Thy Name: That Something Still Which Prompts The Eternal Sigh, For Which We Bear To Live, Or Dare To Die.

To Dazzle Let The Vain Design, To Raise The Thought And Touch The Heart, Be Thine!

A King Is A Mortal God On Earth, Unto Whom The Living God Hath Lent His Own Name As A Great Honour; But Withal Told Him, He Should Die Like A Man, Lest He Should Be Proud, And Flatter Himself That God Hath With His Name Imparted Unto Him His Nature Also. John Locke, "of A King", The Conduct Of The Understanding: Essays, Moral, Economical, And Political A King May Be A Tool, A Thing Of Straw; But If He Serves To Frighten Our Enemies, And Secure Our Property, It Is Well Enough: A Scarecrow Is A Thing Of Straw, But It Protects The Corn.