Men, some to business, some to pleasure take; But every woman is at heart a rake.

The soul's calm sunshine, and the heartfelt joy.

Is that a birthday? 'tis, alas! too clear; 'Tis but the funeral of the former year.

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

I as little fear that God will damn a man that has charity, as I hope that the priests can save one who has not.

The pure and noble, the graceful and dignified, simplicity of language is nowhere in such perfection as in the Scriptures and Homer. The whole book of Job, with regard both to sublimity of thought and morality, exceeds, beyond all comparison, the most noble parts of Homer.

Statesman, yet friend to truth! of soul sincere, In action faithful, and in honour clear; Who broke no promise, serv'd no private end, Who gain'd no title, and who lost no friend.