Such Labour'd Nothings, In So

And You, My Critics! In The Chequer'd Shade, Admire New Light Thro' Holes Yourselves Have Made.

In Faith And Hope The World Will Disagree, But All Mankind's Concern Is Charity.

Pride Is Still Aiming At The Best Houses: Men Would Be Angels, Angels Would Be Gods. Aspiring To Be Gods, If Angels Fell; Aspiring To Be Angels Men Rebel.

In Lazy Apathy Let Stoics Boast, Their Virtue Fixed, 'tis Fixed As In A Frost.

I Am His Highness' Dog At Kew; Pray Tell Me, Sir, Whose Dog Are You?