Pleased To The Last, He

Presumptuous Man! The Reason Wouldst Thou Find,why Form'd So Weak, So Little, And So Blind?first, If Thou Canst, The Harder Reason Guess,why Form'd No Weaker, Blinder, And No Less!ask Of Thy Mother Earth, Why Oaks Are Madetaller Or Stronger Than The Weeds They Shade?or Ask Of Yonder Argent Fields Above,why Jove's Satellites Are Less Than Jove?

Tis Use Alone That Sanctifies Expense And Splendor Borrow All Her Rays From Sense.

A God Without Dominion, Providence, And Final Causes, Is Nothing Else But Fate And Nature.

Satire's My Weapon, But I'm Too Discreet To Run Amuck, And Tilt At All I Meet.

No One Should Be Ashamed To Admit They Are Wrong, Which Is But Saying, In Other Words, That They Are Wiser Today Than They Were Yesterday.