A gen'rous heart repairs a sland'rous tongue.
Tis but a part we see, and not a whole.
Oft in dreams invention we bestow to change a flounce or add a furbelow.
What dire offence from am'rous causes springs, What mighty contests rise from trivial things.
Happy the man whose wish and care a few paternal acres bound, content to breathe his native air in his own ground.
What will a child learn sooner than a song?