To frown at pleasure, and to smile in pain.

Poor in abundance, famish'd at a feast.

Of man's miraculous mistakes, this bears The palm, "That all men are about to live."

The maid that loves goes out to sea upon a shattered plank, and puts her trust in miracles for safety.

Day buries day; month, month; and year the year: Our life is but a chain of many deaths.

Fond man! the vision of a moment made! Dream of a dream! and shadow of a shade!

Not all the pride of beauty; Those eyes, that tell us what the sun is made of; Those lips, whose touch is to be bought with life; Those hills of driven snow, which seen are felt: All these possessed are nought, but as they are The proof, the substance of an inward passion, And the rich plunder of a taken heart.