Speed the soft intercourse from soul to soul, And waft a sigh from Indus to the Pole.

It is very natural for a young friend and a young lover to think the persons they love have nothing to do but to please them.

Cursed be the verse, how well so e'er it flow, That tends to make one worthy man my foe.

Condition, circumstance, is not the thing; Bliss is the same in subject or in king.

Behold the groves that shine with silver frost, their beauty withered, and their verdure lost!

Fools admire, but men of sense approve.

Old men, for the most part, are like old chronicles that give you dull but true accounts of times past, and are worth knowing only on that score.