Never Find Fault With The Absent.

Such Labour'd Nothings, In So Strange A Style, Amaze Th' Unlearn'd And Make The Learned Smile.

By Flatterers Besieged And So Obliging That He Ne'er Obliged.

See! From The Brake The Whirring Pheasant Springs, And Mounts Exulting On Triumphant Wings; Short Is His Joy! He Feels The Fiery Wound, Flutters In Blood, And Panting Beats The Ground.

A Person Who Is Too Nice An Observer Of The Business Of The Crowd, Like One Who Is Too Curious In Observing The Labor Of Bees, Will Often Be Stung For His Curiosity.

When To Mischief Mortals Bend Their Will, How Soon They Find It Instruments Of Ill.