Let grace and goodness be the principal loadstone of thy affections. For love which hath ends, will have an end; whereas that which is founded on true virtue, will always continue.
Love is love's reward.
Joy rul'd the day, and Love the night.
Ah, how sweet it is to love! Ah, how gay is young Desire! And what pleasing pains we prove When we first approach Love's fire!
I am as free as nature first made man, Ere the base laws of servitude began, When wild in woods the noble savage ran.
Riches cannot rescue from the grave, which claims alike the monarch and the slave.
Ill habits gather unseen degrees, as brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas.
The scum that rises upmost, when the nation boils.
Never was patriot yet, but was a fool.
Pity only on fresh objects stays, but with the tedious sight of woes decays.
Welcome, thou kind deceiver! Thou best of thieves; who, with an easy key, Dost open life, and, unperceived by us, Even steal us from ourselves.
Trust reposed in noble natures obliges them the more.
Faith is to believe what you do not yet see: the reward for this faith is to see what you believe. Thus all below is strength, and all above is grace.
How happy the lover, How easy his chain, How pleasing his pain, How sweet to discover He sighs not in vain.
Old as I am, for ladies' love unfit, The power of beauty I remember yet.
Youth should watch joys and shoot them as they fly.
How blessed is he, who leads a country life, Unvex'd with anxious cares, and void of strife! Who studying peace, and shunning civil rage, Enjoy'd his youth, and now enjoys his age: All who deserve his love, he makes his own; And, to be lov'd himself, needs only to be known.
Presence of mind and courage in distress, Are more than arrives to procure success?
The glorious lamp of heaven, the radiant sun, Is Nature's eye.
An hour will come, with pleasure to relate Your sorrows past, as benefits of Fate.
Shakespeare was the Homer, or father of our dramatic poets;Jonson was theVirgil, the pattern of elaborate writing; I admire him, but I love Shakespeare.
Beware the fury of a patient man.
They say everything in the world is good for something.
From harmony, from heavenly harmony, This universal frame began: When nature underneath a heap Of jarring atoms lay, And could not heave her head, The tuneful voice was heard from high, 'Arise, ye more than dead!' Then cold, and hot, and moist, and dry, In order to their stations leap, And Music's power obey. From harmony, from heavenly harmony, This universal frame began: From harmony to harmony Through all the compass of the notes it ran, The diapason closing full in Man.
What precious drops are those, Which silently each other's track pursue, Bright as young diamonds in their faint dew?
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