The Hog That Ploughs Not,

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

With Sharpen'd Sight Pale Antiquaries Pore, Th' Inscription Value, But The Rust Adore. This The Blue Varnish, That The Green Endears; The Sacred Rust Of Twice Ten Hundred Years.

The Lot Of Man - To Suffer And To Die.

Who Breaks A Butterfly On A Wheel?

Be Niggards Of Advice On No Pretense; For The Worst Avarice Is That Of Sense.