One science only will one genius fit/ So vast is art, so narrow human wit - Alexander Pope

So vast is art, so narrow human wit.

So vast is art, so narrow human wit

One science only will one genius fit

The bodkin, comb, and essence to prepare? For this your locks in paper durance bound, For this with tort'ring irons wreath'd around? 100 For this with fillets strain'd your tender head, And bravely bore the double loads of lead?

Most critics, fond of subservient art
still make the whole depend upon a part.
They talk of principles, but notions prize
And all to one loved folly sacrifice.

Dear fatal name! rest ever unreveal'd,
Nor pass these lips in holy silence seal'd.
Hide it, my heart, within that close disguise,
Where mixed with Gods, his lov'd idea lies:
O write it not, my hand - the name appears
Already written - wash it out, my tears!
In vain lost Eloisa weeps and prays,
Her heart still dictates, and her hand obeyes.