Let such teach others who themselves excel, And censure freely who have written well.
I am his Highness' dog at Kew; Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you?
Wholesome solitude, the nurse of sense!
Tis but a part we see, and not a whole.
For when success a lover's toil attends,Few ask, if fraud or force attain'd his ends
Oft, as in airy rings they skim the heath, The clamtrous lapwings feel the leaden death; Oft, as the mounting larks their notes prepare They fall, and leave their little lives in air.