Wine It Is The Milk Of Venus,

Mischiefs Feed / Like Beasts, Till They Be Fat, And Then They Bleed.

Tis Not The Wholesome Sharp Mortality, Or Modest Anger Of A Satiric Spirit, That Hurts Or Wounds The Body Of A State, But The Sinister Application Of The Malicious, Ignorant, And Base Interpreter; Who Will Distort And Strain The General Scope And Purpose Of An Author To His Particular And Private Spleen.

Nothing Is More Short-lived Than Pride.

The Dignity Of Truth Is Lost With Much Protesting.

To The Old, Long Life And Treasure; To The Young, All Health And Pleasure.