Here hills and vales, the woodland and the plain Here earth and water seem to strive again, Not chaos-like together crushed and bruised, But, as the world, harmoniously confused: Where order in variety we see, And where, though all things differ, all agree.

All nature mourns, the skies relent in showers; hushed are the birds, and closed the drooping flowers.

The race by vigour, not by vaunts, is won.

We ought, in humanity, no more to despise a man for the misfortunes of the mind than for those of the body, when they are such as he cannot help; were this thoroughly considered we should no more laugh at a man for having his brains cracked than for having his head broke.

Whoe'er he be That tells my faults, I hate him mortally.

How loved, how honored once, avails thee not, To whom related, or by whom begot A heap of dust alone remains of thee 'Tis all thou art, and all the proud shall be!

And all who told it added something new, and all who heard it, made enlargements too.