Tis All In Vain To Keep A

Like Following Life Through Creatures You Dissect, You Lose It In The Moment You Detect.

Cavil You May, But Never Criticise.

Heaven Gave To Woman The Peculiar Grace To Spin, To Weep, And Cully Human Race.

Dulness! Whose Good Old Cause I Yet Defend, With Whom My Muse Began, With Who Shall End.

Fortune In Men Has Some Small Diff'rence Made, One Flaunts In Rags, One Flutters In Brocade, The Cobbler Apron'd, And The Parson Gown'd, The Friar Hooded, And The Monarch Crown'd.