Age And Want Sit Smiling

Fear Not The Anger Of The Wise To Raise; Those Best Can Bear Reproof Who Merit Praise.

Education Forms The Common Mind. Just As The Twig Is Bent, The Tree's Inclined.

What Woeful Stuff This Madrigal Would Be, In Some Starved Hackney Sonneteer, Or Me! But Let A Lord Once Own The Happy Lines, How The Wit Brightens! How The Style Refines!

There Still Remains To Mortify A Wit The Many-headed Monster Of The Pit.

Soft Is The Strain When Zephyr Gently Blows.