A foe to God ne'er was true friend to man, Some sinister intent taints all he does.

Some for renown, on scraps of learning dote, And think they grow immortal as they quote.

Pygmies are pygmies still, though percht on Alps; And pyramids are pyramids in vales. Each man makes his own stature, builds himself. Virtue alone outbuilds the Pyramids; Her monuments shall last when Egypt's fall.

Youth is not rich in time; it may be poor; Part with it as with money, sparing; pay No moment but in purchase of its worth, And what it's worth, ask death-beds; they can tell.

If we did but know how little some enjoy of the great things that they possess, there would not be much envy in the world.

Body and soul, like peevish man and wife, United jar, and yet are loth to part.

Men should press forward, in fame's glorious chase; Nobles look backward, and so lose the race.