The weak have remedies, the wise have joys; superior wisdom is superior bliss.
Procrastination is the thief of time: Year after year it steals, till all are fled.
Tomorrow is a satire on today, And shows its weakness.
A dearth of words a woman need not fear; But 'tis a task indeed to learn to hear: In that the skill of conversation lies; That shows and makes you both polite and wise.
In chambers deep, Where waters sleep, What unknown treasures pave the floor.
Sense is our helmet, wit is but the plume; The plume exposes, 'tis our helmet saves. Sense is the diamond, weighty, solid, sound; When cut by wit, it casts a brighter beam; Yet, wit apart, it is a diamond still.