The dull flat falsehood serves for policy, and in the cunning, truth's itself a lie.

Let such teach others who themselves excel, And censure freely who have written well.

Yet graceful ease, and sweetness void of pride, Might hide her faults, if belles had faults to hide: If to her share some female errors fall, Look on her face, and you'll forget 'em all.

Education forms the common mind. Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclined.

For when success a lover's toil attends,Few ask, if fraud or force attain'd his ends

Heaven from all creatures hides the book of Fate.

Now warm in love, now with'ring in my bloom Lost in a convent's solitary gloom!