Who Dies In Youth And Vigour, Dies

To Swear Is Neither Brave, Polite, Nor Wise.

If, Presume Not To God To Scan; The Proper Study Of Mankind Is Man. Plac'd On This Isthmus Of A Middle State, A Being Darkly Wise, And Rudely Great.

A Fellow Feeling Makes Us Wondrous Kind.

Chaste To Her Husband, Frank To All Beside, A Teeming Mistress, But A Barren Bride.

See The Wild Waste Of All-devouring Years! How Rome Her Own Sad Sepulchre Appears, With Nodding Arches, Broken Temples Spread! The Very Tombs Now Vanish'd Like Their Dead!