And die of nothing but a rage to live.

The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed today, Had he thy reason, would he skip and play? Pleas'd to the last he crops the flow'ry food, And licks the hand just rais'd to shed his blood.

You eat, in dreams, the custard of the day.

Cursed be the verse, how well so e'er it flow, That tends to make one worthy man my foe.

Why has not Man a microscopic eye? For this plain reason, Man is not a Fly. Say what the use, were finer optics giv'n, T' inspect a mite, not comprehend the heav'n.

That each from other differs, first confess; next that he varies from himself no less.

Physicians are in general the most amiable companions and the best friends, as well as the most learned men I know.