Fickle Fortune Reigns, And, Undiscerning,

Truth Shines The Brighter, Clad In Verse.

A Disputant No More Cares For The Truth Than The Sportsman For The Hare.

I Lisp'd In Numbers, For The Numbers Came.

Oft, As In Airy Rings They Skim The Heath, The Clamtrous Lapwings Feel The Leaden Death; Oft, As The Mounting Larks Their Notes Prepare They Fall, And Leave Their Little Lives In Air.

Vice Is A Monster Of So Frightful Mien As To Be Hated Needs But To Be Seen; Yet Seen Too Oft, Familiar With Her Face, We First Endure, Then Pity, Then Embrace.