Time destroyed Is suicide, where more than blood is spilt.
What is a miracle?--'Tis a reproach, 'Tis an implicit satire on mankind; And while it satisfies, it censures too.
They most the world enjoy who least admire.
We are all born originals - why is it so many of us die copies?
As night to stars, woe lustre gives to man.
Pity swells the tide of love.