Dear, Damned, Distracting Town, Farewell! Thy Fools

There Should Be, Methinks, As Little Merit In Loving A Woman For Her Beauty As In Loving A Man For His Prosperity; Both Being Equally Subject To Change.

Good Sense, Which Only Is The Gift Of Heaven, And Though No Science, Fairly Worth The Seven.

Placed On This Isthmus Of A Middle State.

Condition, Circumstance, Is Not The Thing; Bliss Is The Same In Subject Or In King.

All Chance, Direction, Which Thou Canst Not See