Imitators Are But A Servile Kind Of

Fortune, That With Malicious Joydoes Man Her Slave Oppress,proud Of Her Office To Destroy,is Seldom Pleasd To Bless.

For Art May Err, But Nature Cannot Miss.

One Cannot Say He Wanted Wit, But Rather That He Was Frugal Of It.

New Vows To Plight, And Plighted Vows To Break.

Nothing To Build, And All Things To Destroy.