No Craving Void Left Aching In The

Judges And Senates Have Been Bought For Gold; Esteem And Love Were Never To Be Sold.

Speed The Soft Intercourse From Soul To Soul, And Waft A Sigh From Indus To The Pole.

Get Your Enemy To Read Your Works In Order To Mend Them, For Your Friend Is So Much Your Second Self That He Will Judge Too Like You.

Love Finds An Altar For Forbidden Fires.

Some To Conceit Alone Their Taste Confine, And Glittering Thoughts Struck Out At Ev'ry Line; Pleas'd With A Work Where Nothing's Just Or Fit; One Glaring Chaos And Wild Heap Of Wit.