These riches are possess'd, but not enjoy'd!

Dogs, ye have had your day!

Authors, like coins, grow dear as they grow old.

Truths would you teach, or save a sinking land? All fear, none aid you, and few understand.

For forms of faith let graceless zealots fight; his can't be wrong whose life is in the right.

Talk what you will of taste, my friend, you'll find two of a face as soon as of a mind.

Oh, blindness to the future! kindly giv'n, That each may fill the circle mark'd by heaven.