True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, 
 As those move easiest who have earn'd to dance.

'Tis not enough no harshness gives offence, 
 The sound must seem an echo to the sense. 

Tis education forms the common mind; 
Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclined. 

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

Love, the sole disease thou canst not cure. 

At every trifle scorn to take offense, 
That always shews great pride or little sense. 

Be not the first by whom the new are tried, 
Nor yet the last to lay the old aside. 

Hope springs eternal in the human breast, 
Man never is, but always to be blest. 

A little learning is a dangerous thing; 
Drink deep or taste not the Pierian spring. 
There shallow draughts intoxicate the brain, 
Whilst drinking deeply sobers it again.