Were I, who to my Cost already am One of those strange, prodigious Creatures Man, A Spirit free, to choose for my own Share, What sort of Flesh and Blood I pleas'd to wear, I'd be a Dog, a Monkey, or a Bear, Or any thing, but that vain Animal, Who is so proud of being Rational.

We have a pretty witty king, Whose word no man relies on; He never said a foolish thing, Nor ever did a wise one.

Reason, an Ignis fatuus of the Mind, Which leaves the light of Nature, Sense, behind.

The Elephant is never won with Anger, Nor must that man, who would reclaim a Lion, Take him by the teeth.

There are more fools than knaves in the world, else the knaves would not have enough to live upon.

Then, cleaving the grass, gazelles appear (The gentler dolphins of kindlier waves) With sensitive heads alert of ear; Frail crowds that a delicate hearing save…

These seem like bristles, and the hide is tough. No claw or web here: each foot ends in hoof.