Heaven prepares good men with crosses; but no ill can happen to a good man.

There is no doctrine will do good where nature is wanting.

The voice so sweet, the words so fair, As some soft chime had stroked the air; And though the sound had parted thence, Still left an echo in the sense.

Queen and huntress, chaste and fair Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair, State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light Goddess, excellently bright.

Minds that are great and free, should not on fortune pause: 'Tis crown enough to virtue still, her own applause.

It is an art to have so much judgment as to apparel a lie well, to give it a good dressing.

To men pressed by their wants all change is ever welcome.