Luxurious lobster-nights, farewell, For sober, studious days!

You purchase pain with all that joy can give and die of nothing but a rage to live.

Virtue she finds too painful an endeavour, content to dwell in decencies for ever.

True ease in writing comes from art, not chance, As those move easiest who have learned to dance.

While pensive poets painful vigils keep, Sleepless themselves, to give their readers sleep.

Chaos of thought and passion, all confused; Still by himself abused or disabused; Created half to rise, and half to fall; Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all; Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurled,- The glory, jest, and riddle of the world.

When I die, I should be ashamed to leave enough to build me a monument if there were a wanting friend above ground. I would enjoy the pleasure of what I give by giving it alive and seeing another enjoy it.