To Dazzle Let The Vain Design, To

Our Grandsire, Adam, Ere Of Eve Possesst, Alone, And E'en In Paradise Unblest, With Mournful Looks The Blissful Scenes Survey'd, And Wander'd In The Solitary Shade. The Maker Say, Took Pity, And Bestow'd Woman, The Last, The Best Reserv'd Of God.

Nor In The Critic Let The Man Be Lost.

Fondly We Think We Honor Merit Then, When We But Praise Ourselves In Other Men.

The Cabinets Of The Sick And The Closets Of The Dead Have Been Ransacked To Publish Private Letters And Divulge To All Mankind The Most Secret Sentiments Of Friendship.

Say First, Of God Above Or Man Below; What Can We Reason But From What We Know.