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.

Those oft are stratagems which errors seem Nor is it Homer nods, but we that dream.

Slave to no sect, who takes no private road, But looks through Nature up to Nature's God.

Men would be angels, angels would be gods.

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

I find myself hoping a total end of all the unhappy divisions of mankind by party-spirit, which at best is but the madness of many for the gain of a few.

Lo, what huge heaps of littleness around!