Some, for renown, on scraps of learning dote,
And think they grow immortal as they quote.
Satire i. Line 238.
None think the great unhappy, but the great.
Satire ii. Line 207.
Where nature's end of language is declined,
And men talk only to conceal their mind.[14]
Satire vii. Line 97.
How commentators each dark passage shun,
And hold their farthing candle to the sun.[15]
Lines Written with the Diamond Pencil of Lord Chesterfield.
Accept a miracle, instead of wit,
See two dull lines with Stanhope's pencil writ.