Why did I write? What sin to me unknown dipped me in ink, my parents , or my own?
Fools rush in where angels fear to tread.
A brave man struggling in the storms of fate, And greatly falling with a falling state.
A wit with dunces, and a dunce with wits.
Devotion's self shall steal a thought from heaven.
Still when the lust of tyrant power succeeds, some Athens perishes, or some Tully bleeds.