Fondly We Think We Honor Merit Then,

The World Is A Thing We Must Of Necessity Either Laugh At Or Be Angry At; If We Laugh At It, They Say We Are Proud; If We Are Angry At It, They Say We Are Ill-natured.

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

The Approach Of Night The Skies Yet Blushing With Departing Light, When Falling Dews With Spangles Deck'd The Glade, And The Low Sun Had Lengthen'd Ev'ry Shade.

All Seems Infected That Th' Infected Spy, As All Looks Yellow To The Jaundiced Eye.

"with Ev'ry Pleasing, Ev'ry Prudent Part, Say, What Can Chloe Want?"-she Wants A Heart.