Lo, What Huge Heaps Of Littleness Around!

And Write About It, Goddess, And About It!

The Villain's Censure Is Extorted Praise.

The Hog That Ploughs Not, Not Obeys Thy Call, Lives On The Labours Of This Lord Of All.

Thus Unlamented Pass The Proud Away, The Gaze Of Fools And Pageant Of A Day; So Perish All, Whose Breast Ne'er Learn'd To Glow For Others' Good, Or Melt At Others' Woe.

To Be, Contents His Natural Desire, He Asks No Angel's Wing, No Seraph's Fire; But Thinks, Admitted To That Equal Sky, His Faithful Dog Shall Bear Him Company. Go Wiser Thou! And In Thy Scale Of Sense Weigh Thy Opinion Against Providence.