Alexander Pope

Good sense which only is the gift of Heaven,
And though no science, fairly worth the seven.

Good sense which only is the gift of Heaven,
And though no science, fairly worth the seven.

Nature made every fop to plague his brother,
Just as one beauty mortifies another.

Nature made every fop to plague his brother,
Just as one beauty mortifies another.

Love, free as air at sight of human ties, Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies.

Love, free as air at sight of human ties, Spreads his light wings, and in a moment flies.

To err is human, to forgive, divine.

To err is human, to forgive, divine.

In cold December fragrant chaplets blow,
And heavy harvests nod beneath the snow.

In cold December fragrant chaplets blow,
And heavy harvests nod beneath the snow.