Go miser go, for money sell your soul. Trade wares for wares and trudge from pole to pole, So others may say when you are dead and gone. See what a vast estate he left his son.

He look'd in years, yet in his years were seen A youthful vigor, and autumnal green.

Of all the tyrannies on human kind the worst is that which persecutes the mind.

Him of the western dome, whose weighty sense Flows in fit words and heavenly eloquence.

Kings fight for empires, madmen for applause.

Rhyme is the rock on which thou art to wreck.

The fool of nature stood with stupid eyes And gaping mouth, that testified surprise.