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.

A tardy vengeance shares the tyrant's guilt.

Who can take Death's portrait? The tyrant never sat.

Friendship's the wine of life: but friendship new... is neither strong nor pure.

The qualities all in a bee that we meet, In an epigram never should fail; The body should always be little and sweet, And a sting should be felt in its tail.

Creation sleeps! 'T is as the general pulse Of life stood still, and Nature made a pause,- An awful pause! prophetic of her end.

We bleed, we tremble; we forget, we smile - The mind turns fool, before the cheek is dry