By foreign hands thy humble grave adorned; By strangers honored, and by strangers mourned. – Alexander Pope
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Our rural ancestors, with little blest,
Patient of labour when the end was rest,
Indulged the day that housed their annual grain,
With feasts, and offrings, and a thankful strain. – Alexander Pope
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Some people will never learn anything, for this reason, because they understand everything too soon. – Alexander Pope
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