Bankrupt Of Life, Yet Prodigal Of Ease.

We By Art Unteach What Nature Taught.

How Blessed Is He, Who Leads A Country Life, Unvex'd With Anxious Cares, And Void Of Strife! Who Studying Peace, And Shunning Civil Rage, Enjoy'd His Youth, And Now Enjoys His Age: All Who Deserve His Love, He Makes His Own; And, To Be Lov'd Himself, Needs Only To Be Known.

To Draw True Beauty Shows A Master's Hand.

Plots, True Or False, Are Necessary Things, To Raise Up Commonwealths And Ruin Kings.

The Province Of The Soul Is Large Enough To Fill Up Every Cranny Of Your Time, And Leave You Much To Answer For If One Wretch Be Damned By Your Neglect.