Be thou the first true merit to befriend, his praise is lost who stays till all commend.
Ah! why, ye Gods, should two and two make four?
As some to church repair, Not for the doctrine, but the music there. These equal syllables alone require, Though oft the ear the open vowels tire While expletives their feeble aid do join, And ten low words oft creep in one dull line.
A fly, a grape-stone, or a hair can kill.
Fly, dotard, fly! With thy wise dreams and fables of the sky.
There is no study that is not capable of delighting us after a little application to it.