Poor in abundance, famish'd at a feast.
When men of infamy to grandeur soar, They light a torch to show their shame the more.
Who gives an empire, by the gift defeats All end of giving; and procures contempt Instead of gratitude.
Born Originals, how comes it to pass that we die Copies?
However smothered under former negligence, or scattered through the dull, dark mass of common thoughts - let thy genius rise as the sun from chaos.
Fond man! the vision of a moment made! Dream of a dream! and shadow of a shade!