Men will believe anything at all provided they are under no obligation to believe it.
Here rests his head upon the lap of earth, A youth to fortune and to fame unknown: Fair Science frown'd not on his humble birth, And Melancholy mark'd him for her own.
Chill penury repress'd their noble rage, And froze the genial current of the soul.
Hands that the rod of empire might have sway'd, Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre.
Scatter plenty o'er a smiling land.
And truth severe, by fairy fiction drest.