Pleasure, Or Wrong Or Rightly

There Are Some Solitary Wretches Who Seem To Have Left The Rest Of Mankind, Only, As Eve Left Adam, To Meet The Devil In Private.

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.

A Brave Man Struggling In The Storms Of Fate, And Greatly Falling With A Falling State.

Party-spirit At Best Is But The Madness Of Many For The Gain Of A Few.

Fools Rush In Where Angels Fear To Tread.