What right, what true, what fit we justly call,
Let this be all my care-for this is all:
Slow the unprofitable moments roll,
That lock up all the functions of my foul;
That keep me from myself, and still delay
Life's inliant bufinefs to a future day:
That task, which as we follow, or defpife,
The oldeft is a fool, the youngest wife,
Which done, the pooreft can no wants endure,

And which not done, the richest must be poor. POPE.

London:

PRINTED FOR F. C. AND J. RIVINGTON,
NO. 62, ST. PAUL'S CHURCH-YARD;

By R. and R. Gilbert, St. John's Square, Clerkenwell.