The difference is too nice - Where ends the virtue or begins the vice.

Who breaks a butterfly on a wheel?

Ambition first sprung from your blest abodes: the glorious fault of angels and of gods.

Praise from a friend, or censure from a foe, Are lost on hearers that our merits know.

On her white breast a sparkling cross she wore, Which Jews might kiss and infidels adore.

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.

Sure of their qualities and demanding praise, more go to ruined fortunes than are raised.