Know then this truth, enough for man to know virtue alone is happiness below.

Some are bewildered in the maze of schools, And some made coxcombs nature meant but fools.

A perfect judge will read each word of wit with the same spirit that its author writ.

The good must merit God's peculiar care; But who but God can tell us who they are?

Hope travels through, nor quits us when we die.

Lo! The poor Indian, whose untutored mind sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind.

Of all the causes which conspire to blind Man's erring judgement, and misguide the mind, What the weak head with strongest bias rules, Is PRIDE, the never-failing vice of fools.