O'er Nature's laws, God cast the veil of night, Out blaz'd a Newton's soul — and all was light. - Aaron Hill

Youth is ever apt to judge in haste, And lose the medium in the wild extreme, Do not repent, but regulate your passion: Though love is reason, its excess is rage. Give me, at least, your promise to reflect, In cool, impartial solitude, and still. No last decision till we meet again.

You talk no more of that gay nation now, Where men adore their wives, and woman's power Draws reverence from a polished people's softness, Their husbands' equals, and their lovers' queens; Free without scandal; wise without restraint; Their virtue due to nature, not to fear.

Yours is the guilt of all, who, judging wrong,
Mistake tuned nonsense for the poet's song!
Provoking dulness!—what a soul has he
Who fancies rhyme, and measure, poetry!—
He thinks, profanely, that this generous art
Stops at the ear—with power to shake the heart.