Conceit Is To Nature What Paint Is

Fool, 'tis In Vain From Wit To Wit To Roam: Know, Sense, Like Charity, Begins At Home.

Nature And Nature's Laws Lay Hid In The Night. God Said, Let Newton Be! And All Was Light!

How Vast A Memory Has Love!

Ambition First Sprung From Your Blest Abodes: The Glorious Fault Of Angels And Of Gods.

Whether The Darken'd Room To Muse Invite, Or Whiten'd Wall Provoke The Skew'r To Write; In Durance, Exile, Bedlam, Or The Mint, Like Lee Or Budgel I Will Rhyme And Print.