The Race By Vigour, Not By Vaunts,

What Bosom Beast Not In His Country's Cause?

Devotion's Self Shall Steal A Thought From Heaven.

No Silver Saints, By Dying Misers Giv'n, Here Brib'd The Rage Of Ill-requited Heav'n; But Such Plain Roofs As Piety Could Raise, And Only Vocal With The Maker's Praise.

In The Nice Bee, What Sense So Subtly True From Pois'nous Herbs Extracts The Healing Dew?

To Balance Fortune By A Just Expense, Join With Economy, Magnificence.