All Other Goods By Fortune's

Superstition Is The Spleen Of The Soul.

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!

Content If Hence Th' Unlearn'd Their Wants May View, The Learn'd Reflect On What Before They Knew.

Luxurious Lobster-nights, Farewell, For Sober, Studious Days!

See Christians, Jews, One Heavy Sabbath Keep, And All The Western World Believe And Sleep.