What shall I do to be for ever known, And make the age to come my own?
Of all ills that one endures, hope is a cheap and universal cure.
His time's forever, everywhere his place.
s a scene of changes, and to be constant in Nature were inconstancy.
Unbind the charms that in slight fables lie and teach that truth is truest poesy.
Neither the praise nor the blame is our own.