Still when the lust of tyrant power succeeds, some Athens perishes, or some Tully bleeds.
New, distant Scenes of endless Science rise: So pleas'd at first, the towring Alps we try.
A perfect woman's but a softer man.
'Tis not a lip, or eye, we beauty call, But the joint force and full result of all.
The season when to come, and when to go, to sing, or cease to sing, we never know.
A person who is too nice an observer of the business of the crowd, like one who is too curious in observing the labor of bees, will often be stung for his curiosity.