To Copy Faults Is Want

Wherever Waves Can Roll, And Winds Can Blow.

When Fiction Rises Pleasing To The Eye, Men Will Believe, Because They Love The Lie; But Truth Herself, If Clouded With A Frown, Must Have Some Solemn Proof To Pass Her Down.

Who, With Tame Cowardice Familiar Grown, Would Hear My Thoughts, But Fear To Speak Their Own.

Amongst The Sons Of Men How Few Are Known Who Dare Be Just To Merit Not Their Own.

If You Mean To Profit, Learn To Praise.