Satire's my weapon, but I'm too discreet To run amuck, and tilt at all I meet.

Art still followed where Rome's eagles flew.

Nature and nature's laws lay hid in the night. God said, Let Newton be! and all was light!

Authors are partial to their wit, 'tis true, But are not critics to their judgment, too?

The world is a thing we must of necessity either laugh at or be angry at; if we laugh at it, they say we are proud; if we are angry at it, they say we are ill-natured.

To rest, the cushion and soft dean invite, who never mentions hell to ears polite.

Women, as they are like riddles in being unintelligible, so generally resemble them in this, that they please us no longer once we know them.