Night, sable goddess! from her ebon throne, In rayless majesty, now stretches forth Her leaden sceptre o'er a slumbering world.

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.

Like our shadows, our wishes lengthen as our sun declines.

He sins against this life, who slights the next.

Beautiful as sweet, And young as beautiful, and soft as young, And gay as soft, and innocent as gay!

I've known my lady (for she loves a tune) For fevers take an opera in June: And, though perhaps you'll think the practice bold, A midnight park is sov'reign for a cold.

As night to stars, woe lustre gives to man.