Sometimes Virtue Starves While Vice Is Fed.

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.

Leave Not A Foot Of Verse, A Foot Of Stone, A Page, A Grave, That They Can Call Their Own; But Spread, My Sons, Your Glory Thin Or Thick, On Passive Paper, Or On Solid Brick.

New, Distant Scenes Of Endless Science Rise: So Pleas'd At First, The Towring Alps We Try.

Nature Made Every Fop To Plague His Brother, Just As One Beauty Mortifies Another.

It Is Sure The Hardest Science To Forget!