Dear, damned, distracting town, farewell! Thy fools no more I'll tease: This year in peace, ye critics, dwell, Ye harlots, sleep at ease!

So perish all who do the like again.

Men would be angels, angels would be gods.

Slave to no sect, who takes no private road, But looks through Nature up to Nature's God.

Astrologers that future fates foreshow.

Teach me to feel another's woe, to hide the fault I see, that mercy I to others show, that mercy show to me.

It is sure the hardest science to forget!