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.

If I am right, Thy grace impart Still in the right to stay; If I am wrong, O, teach my heart To find that better way!

We think our fathers fools, so wise we grow. Our wiser sons, no doubt will think us so.

Get your enemy to read your works in order to mend them, for your friend is so much your second self that he will judge too like you.

Thou wert my guide, philosopher, and friend.

Our rural ancestors, with little blest, Patient of labor when the end was rest, Indulged the day that housed their annual grain, With feasts, and off'rings, and a thankful strain.

All Nature is but art, unknown to thee All chance, direction, which thou canst not see; All discord, harmony not understood; All partial evil, universal good.