Such labour'd nothings, in so strange a style, Amaze th' unlearn'd and make the learned smile.
That each from other differs, first confess; next that he varies from himself no less.
All looks yellow to a jaundiced eye.
The ruling passion, be it what it will. The ruling passion conquers reason still.
I am satisfied to trifle away my time, rather than let it stick by me.
Behold the groves that shine with silver frost, their beauty withered, and their verdure lost!