Why Did I Write? What Sin To

Superstition Is The Spleen Of The Soul.

But See, The Shepherds Shun The Noonday Heat, The Lowing Herds To Murmuring Brooks Retreat, To Closer Shades The Panting Flocks Remove; Ye Gods! And Is There No Relief For Love?

When Much Dispute Has Past, We Find Our Tenets Just The Same As Last.

Mark What Unvary'd Laws Preserve Each State, Laws Wise As Nature, And As Fixed As Fate.

The Greatest Magnifying Glasses In The World Are A Man's Own Eyes When They Look Upon His Own Person.