Contemplation Is Wisdom's Best Nurse.

Th'invention All Admir'd, And Each, How He To Be Th'inventor Miss'd; So Easy It Seem'd Once Found, Which Yet Unfound Most Would Have Thought Impossible.

The End Of All Learning Is To Know God, And Out Of That Knowledge To Love And Imitate Him.

In Discourse More Sweet; For Eloquence The Soul, Song Charms The Sense. Others Apart Sat On A Hill Retir'd, In Thoughts More Elevate, And Reason'd High Of Providence, Foreknowledge, Will, And Fate, Fix'd Fate, Free-will, Foreknowledge Absolute; And Found No End, In Wand'ring Mazes Lost.

The Oracles Are Dumb, No Voice Or Hideous Hum Runs Thro' The Arched Roof In Words Deceiving.

Wherefore Did Nature Pour Her Bounties Forth With Such A Full And Unwithdrawing Hand, Covering The Earth With Odours, Fruits, Flocks, Thronging The Seas With Spawn Innumerable, But All To Please And Sate The Curious Taste?