These Riches Are Possess'd, But

Devotion's Self Shall Steal A Thought From Heaven.

Pleasures Are Ever In Our Hands Or Eyes; And When In Act They Cease, In Prospect Rise.

Why Has Not Man A Microscopic Eye? For This Plain Reason, Man Is Not A Fly. Say What The Use, Were Finer Optics Giv'n, T' Inspect A Mite, Not Comprehend The Heav'n.

A Wit With Dunces, And A Dunce With Wits.

The Difference Is Too Nice - Where Ends The Virtue Or Begins The Vice.