For forms of Government let fools contest. Whate'er is best administered is best.

Poetic justice, with her lifted scale,Where, in nice balance, truth with gold she weighs,And solid pudding against empty praise. Here she beholds the chaos dark and deep,Where nameless somethings in their causes sleep,Till genial Jacob, or a warm third day,Call forth each mass, a poem, or a play:How hints, like spawn, scarce quick in embryo lie,How new-born nonsense first is taught to cry.

Old politicians chew on wisdom past, And totter on in business to the last.

Jarring interests of themselves create the according music of a well-mixed state.