Wise wretch! With pleasures too refined to please,With too much spirit to be e'er at ease,With too much quickness ever to be taught,With too much thinking to have common thought:You purchase pain with all that joy can give,And die of nothing but a rage to live.

All are but parts of one stupendous whole Whose body Nature is and God the soul.

Do good by stealth, and blush to find it fame.

What so tedious as a twice-told tale?

Music resembles poetry, in eachAre nameless graces which no methods teach,And which a master hand alone can reach.

Know thyself, presume not God to scan;The proper study of mankind is man.