Authors, Like Coins, Grow Dear As They

Who Shall Decide When Doctors Disagree, And Soundest Casuists Doubt, Like You And Me?

The Dances Ended, All The Fairy Train For Pinks And Daisies Search'd The Flow'ry Plain.

What Is It To Be Wise? 'tis But To Know How Little Can Be Known, To See All Others' Faults, And Feel Our Own.

Truths Would You Teach, Or Save A Sinking Land? All Fear, None Aid You, And Few Understand.

Fickle Fortune Reigns, And, Undiscerning, Scatters Crowns And Chains.