Oh! be thou blest with all that Heaven can send, Long health, long youth, long pleasure-and a friend.

Good sense, which only is the gift of Heaven, And though no science, fairly worth the seven.

That each from other differs, first confess; next that he varies from himself no less.

As with narrow-necked bottles; the less they have in them, the more noise they make in pouring out.

Who sees with equal eye, as God of all, A hero perish or a sparrow fall, Atoms or systems into ruin hurl'd, And now a bubble burst, and now a world.

On life's vast ocean diversely we sail, Reason the card, but passion is the gale; Nor God alone in the still calm we find, He mounts the storm, and walks upon the wind.

All Nature is but art, unknown to thee All chance, direction, which thou canst not see; All discord, harmony not understood; All partial evil, universal good.